Under Hill and Deeper Still
by Otter Child
Summary: There are times and places it is not wise to tamper with. The TARDIS has just landed in one of the worst, and cannot be made to start again. Now the Doctor is trapped in the year of 1849, with green Ireland outside the doors. But why?
1. Chapter 1

1

In the TARDIS kitchen, breakfast was being made. The Doctor was half buried in the refrigerator, knocking things about, while his granddaughter poked a spatula at the eggs sizzling on the stove. The eggs were turning a very pretty shade of pink; nearly done. On the second burner, a kettle began to whistle. The Doctor ought to have done better than a whistling kettle. His granddaughter had a proper electric kettle in her ship. But he'd picked it up in his seventh regeneration, when he'd been easily amused, and never gotten around to replacing it.

The Doctor's dark, mussed head popped out behind the open refrigerator door. "Walker, you seen the marmalade?"

The Walker pulled a mug from the cupboard. "I believe Jenny ate it."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose nearly to his mussed hairline. "All of it?"

The Walker shrugged. "She had the jar and a spoon."

Her grandfather grimaced. "Not _again_! That's the third time this month!" He turned to glare back into the depths of the refrigerator, then bent. The clink of bottles being pushed into each other started again, along with a petulant muttering. "Now I'll have to use jam. I hate jam. Specially blackberry jam; how'd that even get in here? Oh, let me guess: Jenny. Don't know how that girl stomachs the stuff."

The Walker smiled to herself as she listened to the older man grumble.

"At least strawberry tastes all right, but of course we would be out of that too. Wonder if she ate _that_. Erg. Fine. Waffles. You don't put jam on waffles. Walker!" he announced, stepping into view, "We're having waffles today."

"All right, Grandfather."

Boot heels clicked in the hall as the Walker turned the eggs over, announcing Jenny's return. "Morning." she said, setting down an empty jar. Her father looked over his shoulder with a theatrically scandalized expression. "Morning! Is that all you can give me after scrounging the kitchen to within an inch of its life, a cheery good morning?"

Jenny glanced at him, her brow furrowing. "What?"

"You ate the marmalade! Again!"

Jenny raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "There was less than two spoonfuls left. You ate most of it last night."

"I did not!"

"Yeah. You did. When you were working on the DC power filter for the Colony power sources you wanted to adapt."

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond-then his eyebrows rose. "Ah. Yes. Well, we're having waffles, and then we'll get along. Get out the waffle iron, will you?"

Jenny dropped her annoyed expression for a shrug and a nod. "Right."

"Why don't you use the food replicator?" the Walker asked, over the sound of clanging pans.

"Shoved the thing into a back room," the Doctor answered absently, reaching into a cupboard for the flour. "No matter what I did to it the food still tasted a bit off. Besides, I learned to cook!" Behind his back, Jenny made a so-so gesture with one hand. The Walker suppressed a giggle.

The Doctor hummed lightly as he worked, and soon had a number of waffles piling up on a plate. He served them up with a flourish worthy of a French chef.

"So," Jenny asked between bites, "Can we go to that show after breakfast?"

"Which show?" the Doctor asked, drowning his waffles in grasta syrup. Jenny slipped her plate neatly under the stream, stealing more syrup for herself.

"The Nickleback show. Remember, Nickleback? I say we hit the 2010 European set, or the 2009 show at Fiddler's Green in America. That's in…Colorado, right? Or Wyoming?"

"Colorado, 's I remember. And that was my syrup, by the way."

"You already got more syrup than waffle." she replied judiciously.

"I cannot understand how you can endure that American Modern style." the Walker commented coolly. "It's deafening."

_"__Oh come on!" Jenny replied, brushing platinum hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. "When they start playing rock, your whole body gets into it. Your hearts beat faster, your blood pounds to the music." She put a hand against her sternum. "You can feel the beat right here and your whole body wants to dance. I love that feeling." _

___Her sister looked at her dubiously. Actually, she was Jenny's niece, since the Walker was the Doctor's granddaughter, while Jenny was his daughter and would have been sister to the Walker's mother. But they'd agreed that was all too much of a mouthful, and so the Walker referred to Jenny as her younger sister. Much younger, of course, since there was nearly four hundred years between them._

_The Doctor pointed his fork at the older girl._"Now, don't make that face, Walker. It's a real cultural experience, being at a rock concert. Besides, you like rock music."

"I've _never_ liked American music."

"You liked the Common Men."

"Who were English, Grandfather, and sounded nothing like American Rock."

The Doctor shrugged. "Each to his own. You can pick the next trip. On that note, Jenny, one of these days-" he swallowed mightily and continued, "One of these days I'm going to have to take you to see the eighties. America in the nineteen-eighties; now _that _was rock and roll! But, Nickleback you said, Nickleback it is…"

"Grandfather, this is only a short trip before I return to Fanti-Havi, as I've told you." the Walker said, her mind straying back to the diplomatic matters of the planet she lived on. "I really do have work to do."

"Well, then it's a good thing we're going to a short one-night concert, isn't it? But I'm going to eat before we go anywhere, and you two ought to do the same. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"Who says that?" Jenny asked interestedly. The Doctor shrugged, mouth full. _Somebody called 'they', I'd guess._

Jenny rolled her eyes in her father's direction as the Walker chuckled, tucking in. She did have to admit, the waffles weren't bad at all.

In record time they were in the console room, Jenny's body taunt with eagerness, a smile hovering around the edges of her mouth. She glanced up at the time rotor, closed her eyes, then grinned widely.

"Now don't go getting the old thing overexcited." the Doctor chided, his head bent over the knobs and switches in front of him. He flipped two switches, turned several knobs, pulled a lever-frowned, smacked the panel that housed it, and pulled again-then smiled slightly. After tapping at the main keyboard, he looked up.

"Right then, coordinates set, all calibrated."

"'Kay." Jenny said, and pulled the handbrake.

The Doctor watched the ship work with a quiet pleasure. On his left his daughter manned the stabilization and orientation controls. On his right, his granddaughter kept the directional vectors in check. They were doing rather well, if he said so himself.

Until the grating of the ship shuddered beneath his feet. The Doctor frowned. "Jenny, keep the stabilizing matrix steady."

"I was, Father."

"Then you must've laid off on the gravimetric pump. Try-"

The ship juddered hard enough to throw off his balance. He clung to the console. Ah well. They had been doing alright. The Doctor glanced over the readings in front of him as he braced his legs. Oddly, they didn't register any cause for the turbulence, not even the imbalances that came of poor driving.

"Father! Something weird's lighting up over here!"

"What's it look like?" he shouted over the clamor of the ship.

"Bright yellow triangle pointing—wait- now it's a bright orange triangle, pointing down!"

"What?" The Doctor ran to see for himself. Jenny had been right. The power-depletion light was on. What was _that_ doing lit?

"What is it?" Jenny asked, her voice sharp.

"We're running out of power." he replied in surprise. "Why're you running out of power?"

"We're off course!" the Walker shouted, "Grandfather, I can't pull us back into the proper vectors!"

"In a minute!" The Doctor yelled back, bracing his feet as the ship bucked and spun. He rushed around the console, trying to find some cause for the problem.

"Father! It's red now!"

"Gah!" The Doctor grabbed two levers and pulled down, hard. "What color's it now?"

"Orange!"

"Course still changing!"

"We still headed for Earth?"

"Yes!"

"Then let it alone an' get over here!"

The ship gyrated all around them. This was the nastiest turbulence they'd hit in a long time. And the TARDIS wasn't happy about it either. Under his own emotions he felt roiling anger and frustration. Something was happening, and she wasn't doing it.

_What is going on?_

"Push that! And the next one!" the Doctor shouted to his daughter.

"What about this?"

"That too!"

"The light's red now-no-it turned mauve!"

"We're leaving the Vortex!" the Walker called out. The lights inside the console room dimmed to a sickly red hue, loosing strange shadows that danced as the ship jerked and shook.

Jenny held on to the console with both hands. "Father, I think we're gonna-"

There was a bone-shaking lurch, a slam that knocked him to the floor, a wheezing scream out of the machinery beneath the grate.

Stillness.

Silence.

The Doctor got slowly to his feet. His dark eyes moved from his daughter, already standing, to his granddaughter, who'd landed in the console chair. The Walker looked a little dazed, but she was all right. They were both all right. His stomach unclenched.

_Right. Everyone's all right. Everything's all right, 'cept the power loss._

_So what in the Seven Systems just happened?_

For a moment, the three Time Lords stared at one another, breathless, dazed.

Then Jenny turned on her heel, and took off at a jog for the door. The Doctor's form tensed. "Jenny, I think-"

But she had already pulled the door open and was silhouetted against the opening, staring out. Beyond the door, green hills stretched away to the horizon, framed in a soft blue sky.

_All right, Earth, Northern Hemisphere probably, looks like either spring or early summer, earlier than the nineteenth century from the look of it, but…_

Then Jenny's form went rigid.

"Jenny-" the Doctor said, warning in his voice. Too late. She was out the door. "Jenny!" the Doctor took off down the ramp and out the door. One look told him exactly when and where they were. He took a precious moment to look around, eyes wide. "Oh-oh..."

One of the worst possible places they could have landed. One of the absolute worst.

A wave of anger, Jenny's anger, flashed through his head like lightning. There was a crash from around the other side of the ship. The Doctor ran to the side. And then he saw what was happening behind his ship.

"Jenny, no wait , _don't-_"

But his warning was too late. Jenny had already reached the crowd of men, landing a flying kick into the first one who came within reach. She hit out at the one beside him, delivering a blow that probably broke the human's jaw. Her form was outlined black against the flames that reached out of the burning house, licking orange and red.

The Doctor began to run.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Jenny slammed a fist into the man's side. He doubled over, knocking into the man beside him. Another one behind her. Backward high kick. Over the crackle of the fire, she heard the sound of a rib breaking. Maybe two. _Good._

Hard right punch. The woman. Two men had been holding her over here, before a hard kick had taken one of them out. Where was she?

Someone grabbed her arm in a twisting grip. Jenny smiled slightly. _Bad move!_ The man sailed over her shoulder and landed hard among his fellows. Jenny grinned, then twisted and hit out, breaking the nose of the gigantic man holding some sort of club. There was an awful lot of yelling now. Rabbit punch, hard left to the jaw.

She turned. There. A spot of red. The woman's shawl, showing through the fire. She'd gone back into the burning house. Was she bloody crazy?

Two men came at her at once. Now that was cheating. Quick uppercut, wheel, kick to the groin. Both men taken care of. Good. Get moving.

Jenny took off at a run, ducking her head as she crashed through the flimsy door. The house was really only a room, and the woman was near the far wall, bent over, frantically stuffing things into a gigantic basket. Jenny skidded to a stop in front of her. "Come on! We need to get out of here!"

The woman's eyes were huge as she stared up at her, unmoving. Shock. Jenny pulled her up by the shoulders, and pushed the woman-girl, really-out the door in front of her. Most of the men had taken off. One was still around. Hard left to the jaw.

A hand grabbed her forearm. Jenny whirled, eyes fixed, to deliver a roundhouse. The move was caught and blocked by a long, deceptively thin hand. Jenny looked up.

"Oh. Sorry, Father."

Her father's eyes were almost black, his face thunderous.

"You ought to be." He glared down at her. "What exactly did you think you were-" Then he noticed the girl Jenny still had a hand on, giving her a comprehensive look. "Oh, hello. You all right? Burned anywhere?"

The girl shook her head, eyes wide.

"Good. Jenny, if you ever…" his words petered out as he reluctantly glanced back at the girl. She was standing, stock still, in the same place that Jenny had left her. "You're not all right, are you?"

He looked around the area. The other little hovels might as well have been empty for all the signs of life that they showed. "You've got family living somewhere around here, I'd expect. Better-"

"My family's dead, sir." the girl said, staring up at him. Her voice sounded frail; low and far away.

"What about friends?" the Doctor asked hopefully. "You must have some friends here in town…"

The girl shook her head slightly. "They can't have me in, sir. The landlord's forbade it."

"Oh. Right. Of course he did." The Doctor said, his voice almost bitter. Jenny watched him as he sighed, his eyes roaming over the little cluster of houses, then turned back to the girl. "Look, I need to get to the nearest pub. Do me a favor and take me there?"

The girl nodded, her coppery hair whipping around her face as it escaped the shawl over her head. Jenny shot a glance at her father. Why did he want to go to a pub?

The Doctor didn't give her a chance to ask. He looked at the burning house, his face grim. Then he turned away. "Well, then, let's go. No sense standing around here."

He turned the black glare back on his daughter.

_You can get back to the TARDIS and change into period clothing. Then get over to this pub. Don't make any more of a mess than you already have in the process, if you can manage that. Now get going._

Turning on his heel, he strode away. Jenny stared after him, her head cocked, arms crossed. _Oh great._

Glancing at the crackling flames, she frowned, then turned her back and jogged away. _ He's going to have a fit about this, isn't he?_

…

The pub was dark and smoky, the few tables in the room ringed around the fireplace. Here and there, a patron sat huddled over their drink. The Doctor was slouched in a chair a little back from the fire, staring at the door. The young woman beside him was sipping a large mug of milk that he'd bought her. She needed it; the hollows of her cheeks were too deep, and her body had a pinched look to it under her thick shawl and bag of a dress. Under a familiar roof and near a warm fire the signs of shock had finally begun to fade, as he'd hoped they would. The pub would be a good place to leave her. Technically it was against the social rules of the area for a young woman to be in a pub like this, but at the moment he really couldn't have cared less. He was lucky to find a pub that was still open at this period of time, and in such a small village. There must be a wealthy landlord somewhere nearby whose patronage was keeping the place open.

"Like another one?" he asked her. She glanced up at him, then away again. "Oh, no sir. This's very good, thank you sir."

The Doctor watched her take another sip. Polite little thing. She'd be pretty too, if she wasn't so care worn. A little thing like her shouldn't be sitting here, dependant on charity for a meal.

And he shouldn't be here at all. He sighed to himself. A fixed event period in Time, and fixed more intricately than most. Everything that happened here was so intricately bound up with the future, so closely interwoven that a single careless gesture could do damage. Just saying hello or stopping to talk in the village square could rewrite a timeline. And look what they'd done; within minutes they'd managed to make the grandiose gesture of pulling a girl out of a fire and dispersing a gang of thugs. As his daughter would say, this was a real bollocks of a thing.

His daughter. The Doctor's frown deepened. She'd just _had_ to jump into the middle of it all, hadn't she? Just _had_ to take sides the minute she saw a fight. Hadn't she had the sense to notice the hallmarks of a fixed event?

Of course, he knew the answer to that. When Jenny's focus was on something, she ignored her surroundings entirely. Despite everything he'd taught her, she had been born a soldier, and still had the instincts of a fighter.

Well, she was going to have to get instincts under control before she killed herself. Or worse. He was going to have a few choice words for the girl when she got here. A few very choice words. You'd think she'd learn…

Well, at least she hadn't changed anything particularly important by pulling this girl out of the frying pan and the fire. He'd been studying her timelines thoroughly on the walk up here to see if they were about to get an influx of Reapers or some other bloody mess. But apparently the human's life had been headed in this direction anyway. The changes they made had been comparatively subtle in her lines. He could be grateful for that at least.

The girl noticed his eyes on her, and ducked her head lower over her drink.

"It's very grateful I am to you for this, sir."

"Oh, don't mention it. I'm the Doctor, by the way."

"Mary. Mary O'Hara of Bally Cu."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mary O'Hara."

She nodded, a tiny gesture. "You'd best not stay in this place for practicing your trade, if you're a doctor. There's not many hereabouts who can pay for your work."

The opening of the door relieved the Doctor of the need to answer. The Walker had changed into a long, high cut blue dress with a small sash, tied on a matching bonnet, and looked fairly in period. Jenny had done better than she usually did on period clothes in a brown dress that was only a few years too early. Above the high collar, her face was blank as marble. She followed her father's nod towards the side of the room furthest from the fire. He stood.

"Well, good luck, Mary O'Hara." turning on his heel, he let his smile drop away. His daughter met his eyes as he reached the wall beside her.

"Do you know where and when we are?" he asked, his voice low.

"Ireland, eighteen forty nine." Jenny replied quietly.

"And do you know what you could've done when you interfered in the events here?"

Jenny nodded sharply. "I made a mistake, sir."

"You made a bloody mess. If that girl had been meant to die, you know what would've happened." He'd told her often enough that she ought to.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Jenny glanced away, out into the bar.

"Why does everybody look so skinny?"

"It's the middle of a famine. I thought you said you'd checked the databases."

"Only for the date."

"We assumed there was some need to hurry." the Walker added. "This isn't the Potato Famine, is it?"

"Right in one." her grandfather said darkly. "One of the most tightly fixed events in Earth's history, I might add."

"Is that why they were raiding the house?" Jenny asked, "Because they're hungry?"

"That wasn't a raid." The Doctor said, staring into the room. "That was an eviction. Few years before now, the main crop gets infected by a nasty virulent bacteria, they call it a blight, pretty much sums it up; it's wiped out by now-the crop, not the virus- so the people are out of crops to eat and crops to sell. When they can't sell any crops, they can't feed their families, and they can't pay their rents. When they can't pay their rents their landlords—most of the landlords are men who live over in England and just bought up land over here—well, they have the people kicked off, bag and baggage. Have the houses burned so they don't come back after. Most of the landlords put livestock out to graze on the land." he smiled a small, crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Makes good financial sense to them. Beef and sheep make them a lot more money. It gets worse, but that's the start of it. And this is the middle of it."

Jenny's jaw set. Now she understood why her father looked so grim.

After a moment, the Doctor drew a deep breath. "Right, here's the rules. Don't talk to anybody unless you have to. Don't wander off, and don't, absolutely, definitely _don't_ get involved in anything else. We're going back to the TARDIS, and we're going to get out of here."

Turning on his heel, the Doctor swept out of the small room.

….

"How's that?" the Doctor called.

"Still mauve." Jenny called down from her seat on the edge of the trap door in the floor grating. The Gallifreyan equivalent of an emphatic 'damn!' rang from beneath the floor.

"There has to be an energy drain somewhere." the Walker said distractedly as she worked on the controls, "but it's not appearing on any of the readings."

A sliver of irritable annoyance ran through Jenny's head. "I'm doing the best I can, you ancient grim-crack junk pot." her father grumbled in response below them. "Right, not that…working fine…let's try this then…." he raised his voice, calling out, "will somebody hand me down the tricheric spanner?" Jenny took the small tool out of the box at her side, putting it into the groping hand. Whatever he was doing down there, it wasn't doing much good. It had been twenty-five minutes and thirty-six seconds, and the lights of the console room were still a pulsing reddish color, an unpleasant contrast to the usual amber-green. It wasn't right, and it was really beginning to piss Jenny off. Her father was usually faster than this at fixing things. She passed down tool after tool, listening to his busy muttering.

"Now, this's working, so's this…power absorption's all right…maybe…leak? No…transformation manifold…ouch! You shocked me! You bleeding shocked me, you bloody-minded tin! How in the name of Rassilon am I supposed to fix this if you won't let me touch anything? Crazy old… rectan, right now, Jenny!"

Jenny grabbed up the tool, avoiding the sharp connecting spine as she passed it down.

"Now the manipulation carex!"

….

Three hours and twenty two minutes had passed. And they were still at it, though it was doing not a damn bit of good. The pulsing red light was beginning to give Jenny a headache. The grease on her hands felt good, though; finally she'd been able to help with something down beneath the gratings, inspecting the manifold filters that were perfectly clean, checking and rechecking the energy absorption conduits for obstructions-there weren't any- and checking the hadron crystals. Those were fine too, and now she was back to waiting while her father worked.

The console door burst open.

"Grandfather! My ship is drained as well!"

"What?"

Five hours and twenty-nine minutes. Jenny walked back into the main control room.

"The readings in the cloister room say everything's fine."

The report brought another curse and her father's mussed head poking out from beneath the grating. "There's got to be something down there! A TARDIS doesn't just stop working out of the blue! It's not a leak, not a bad splice…" he growled, and dived back beneath the grate.

"I'll get my ship to do a few readings." the Walker said, her brow furrowed. "She still has about a quarter of her power supply remaining. And perhaps I should also put up a proper camouflage. If we're going to be here for some time, we don't want to become an object of interest."

The only response she got was a growl from her grandfather and a clang of a falling tool.

…..

Seven hours and fifty-one minutes. They'd found a perfect place for hiding the TARDIS, using the Walker's ship to move both of them to the top of a hill crowned by a group of tall standing stones. The TARDIS looked like another stone now. And it was still out of commission.

Jenny stared at the ceiling. She'd been kicked out if the TARDIS understory after the second time she'd been shocked on the machinery, and she hadn't been allowed back down. She stretched her arms over her head, and sighed heavily. She hated sitting.

What she really wanted to do was explore a little. They'd never landed somewhere where they didn't at least take a look around the place. They'd watched Hannibal finish the crossing of the Alps. Hell, they'd watched a human forge the first iron sword and it hadn't worried her father, though that was a pretty fixed point in the planet's history.

Her stomach growled. Jenny leaned over the hole in the floor. "Father, I'm going to go out and get something to eat. Want me to bring something back?"

"Don't." was the muffled response from beneath the grating.

"Right, I won't. I'll be back."

"Jenny…ouch-I meant don't go."

She cocked her head. "Why?"

There was an indistinct mutter, in which Jenny made out the words 'said so'. Her eyebrows rose. "You're not serious."

There was a clank, and her father's upper body appeared; suit top and tie gone, shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, face marked with greenish grease, hair on end.

"Nobody ever listens when I say 'because I said so.'" he exclaimed, "I can't even count the times I've said 'trust me, don't do it' and they go and do it anyway, and invariably it turns out I was right. You'd think you'd learn to trust my judgment."

He was babbling to get her off the subject. Jenny waited through it, staring at him. After a moment, the Doctor rolled his eyes. "All right, you want an answer. Pure and simple, this is a tightly fixed point in Time. One little mistake can have gigantic consequences."

"I'm just going to buy lunch. We bought pasties at the crowning of Queen Victoria and we had breakfast at the Great Peace Treaty Meeting of PQuelt, and that ended five hundred years of fighting. You didn't have a fit then."

"Yes, but first of all, this is a famine, Jenny. You aren't going to be able to buy food anywhere. Have you read up on the local history yet?"

"I've been a little busy."

"You should never skimp on reading the history, unless you enjoy not knowing what's going on." He warned. "And not knowing what's going on can get you killed in very short order. Besides that point, you've got to remember that our actions had very little effect on the timeline. It really didn't matter whether a vendor sold one more bowl of fessex or he didn't. But people are teetering on the proverbial knife's edge here." the Doctor said earnestly. "Living and dying, making it and going broke can depend on whether they get one more egg or one more customer on a given day. If you go down to the pub, you buy a meal, you pay the bartender. But what if he was just short of paying his bills that month, and the one extra customer, you, lets him break even? Then instead of going broke, closing shop, moving to America, working as a clerk, meeting a girl and having seven kids, he stays open, stays in Ireland, meets a different girl and has a different set of kids. Now the descendents that would've lived and worked in America are missing from the timeline. Or let's say you talk to a woman with three kids who're starving, you're kind; it gives her hope, and she doesn't go to the poor house. So she doesn't go to another part of the country, and her descendants don't grow up in a different area, and they don't fight in a revolution. Can you see where this goes? Even the littlest people play a part in Time."

Jenny nodded. "Okay. Now that I'm appraised of the risks, I can watch out."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You _can't _'watch out' with every single action you make, Jenny."

"I'll remain on high alert. And I'll screen all events for timeline risks before I involve myself."

"But you _can't_ screen all events!" her father exclaimed, "Nobody can! That's the point! I keep saying it, this is a fixed event-"

"You bought the girl a glass of milk."

"Yes, because I'd already made sure it didn't affect either the girl or the bartender, and-"

"Exactly." Jenny cut in judiciously. She had him on this point. "You checked. So the pub's safe. I want to observe an event like this at close quarters. I might be able to gather intelligence by listening in there. Since you won't let me help with the repairs, I might as well be doing something. I'll get the right currency denominations out of the store room." She crossed her arms over her chest.

After a long glare, the Doctor let out a frustrated sigh, running his grease-stained hand through his hair.

"All right! All right, fine, go down there, but you're to eat and then come straight back." he said, pointing the sonic screwdriver up at her. "Don't talk to anybody if you can help it, don't get involved, and for heaven's sake _don't_ muck about with anything that isn't any of your business! The last thing we need is a paradox we have to fix. You got that?"

Jenny bobbed her head. "Got it." She turned on her heel and stood.

"And be careful!" the Doctor called after her.

…..

Her eyes flickered over the room in quick reconnaissance sweeps. The firelight provided enough illumination for her to see every detail of the room. Of course, her eyes had a higher light-intake index than a human's.

There was an empty seat at the bar, and Jenny took it. The weight of eyes on her back made her neck prickle as she sat. More than half the people in here had to be watching her. She hoped she hadn't made a breach in local protocol. She hated nineteenth century Earth. She always made errors in their rules of decorum. There were too many damn rules.

The large man behind the bar walked over, his greyish hair catching the waning sunlight through the window. "Yes miss? Would you be wanting something?"

He was going to die from disease next year. But she couldn't see any line disturbance caused by her. "Yes," she said, "I'll have a whiskey, thanks."

"Whiskey?" the man repeated, eying her carefully, "Are you sure, miss?"

"Aw, giv' it to 'er Tom." said a voice on her left. Jenny noted the subtle difference as he switched from English to another language. "Be nice to see the little English pansy fall over on her stumps."

The innkeeper turned sharply. "I'll thank you to mind your tongue while you're drinking my stout, Harry McGrath." He snapped, using the same language. That must be Irish. The databanks said it was a common language in the period.

A man with a battered tweed cap lowered his eyes sullenly under the barman's glare. Jenny spoke up to break the tension.

"And if you've got anything in the pot I'll have some of that too. It smells lovely."

The man turned, staring at her with wide eyes. Then Jenny realized she'd used the language they'd been speaking. That had been stupid. If people spoke a second language, they were often doing it to speak privately. She'd have to watch herself after this.

"'Tis nothing but cabbage, miss." the barman said in English, still staring at her.

"Great. I love good cabbage." she said. Anything was worth a try.

"Oh, so kind of you, missus." the man in the cap sneered. Jenny studied him without appearing to. He was a thin man glaring at her from under his cap, his lips set in a mocking half smile. Trying to get a rise out of her. Weird to have a stranger heckling her, a girl, in this time period. Guys were supposed to leave girls alone in the nineteenth century, she thought.

A small woman with white in the brown of her hair set a glass in front of her. "Here you are miss, and don't mind Harry, he's always on about something."

"Thanks." Jenny said. She bet he was. She knew the type of man; they showed up in spaceports all over. An annoyance, but not brave enough to be an actual threat.

Her roving eyes wandered over the room, studying timelines for dangers. Her eye caught on a crop of copper hair, and she grinned. Taking her glass, she walked over to the table. "How are you feeling now? Better?"

The girl's head shot up, her eyes wide- then she gave a little smile. "Oh! Oh, miss, hello. Yes, thank you, I'm much better now." She said, staring at Jenny. "And I wanted to thank you for your kindness to me. I never did so earlier. You were so…quick."

"It's just my training." Jenny demurred with an easy smile. "Mind if I take a seat?"

The girl bobbed her head. "As you like, miss."

"Thanks." She said as she pulled out a chair, "My name's Jenny by the way. And I never got yours."

"Mary sir," the girl said quickly, "Mary O'Hara." The girl sat staring at Jenny as if trying to memorize her face, then casting her eyes down. Such a lot of confused emotions were running around in her head. Gratitude. But there was fear there too, fear of-what? For a second Jenny thought it was her, but that didn't make sense- and a little anger too. It was too much of a mess to sort through, so Jenny gave up trying.

The uncomfortable silence was broken as the barwoman set a bowl on the table.

"I'd like another bowl over here when you've got a minute." Jenny said as the bowl was set down. Mary looked up sharply. "Oh you mustn't miss, I'm really-"

"Really, really hungry." Jenny cut in. "And I'm not going to eat while you watch. By the way," she said, studying her bowl with interest, "What're we eating?"

"Tis nobbut cabbage. A fine English lady such as yourself won't likely have had it before this."

"Yeah, but I'm not-" Jenny changed her words mid sentence, remembering her accent did indeed sound English to anybody from Earth. "picky about what I eat." she took a large bite. "Mm. It's good, too." she lied. She swallowed. "By the way, where are you sleeping tonight?"

"Oh, Mr. Connely offered me a place in the stable behind the inn for t' night."

Jenny nodded as the second bowl of cabbage was set down. Despite her protests, the girl dug into it with a will. The girl glanced up at her.

"And you miss, where are you staying then?"

"Oh," Jenny said, "pretty close by."

The girl studied her. "The nearest fine house with rooms to let is some ways off."

"Yes, I know." Jenny fabricated quickly, "I have a coach waiting for me on the other side of that hill with the standing stones on it. I want to poke around there for a while; it's pretty intriguing."

The girl's green eyes widened. "Now miss? So near to dark?"  
Jenny shrugged, hating the damn dress that constrained her movements. "I'm not really the scaring type. The dark doesn't worry me."

"Oh it's not that I was saying," Mary said, "tis only…"

"What?" Jenny asked, cocking her head. Mary looked away.

"Tis silly to be saying so miss, it may be so much prattle to one such as yourself, but up near the hill at dusk is a bad place to be."

"Why?" Jenny asked, encouraging her as she took another bite. Maybe there was some cause for the TARDIS's power failure after all.

Mary shrugged, her eyes flicking downwards. "It's a queer place, and queer things happen there." She drew a deep breath. "And besides, tis very rocky and you might turn an ankle. Best to go in the morning instead."

Jenny nodded. "Thanks for the warning. I'll keep that in mind. And my coachman is probably waiting."

Standing, Jenny paid the barman, then walked out the pub door and into the dusk.

…

Mary sat quietly, staring at the door. Such a queer girl. Fine, no mistake, but strange. Now that she was properly dressed and all she was a bit less odd, but before…

"And what were you doing going on with that English primp, Mary O'Hara?"

Mary glared up at Harry McGrath where he'd come to stand beside her table. "I'll have you know that girl saved my life, Harry. If she'n her father hadn't helped me out of my cabin I'd be dead by now, y'hear?"

"So now you're a friend of the English?" Harry spat.

"They saved my life!"

"And that absolves them, does it?"

"Harry, you've said quite enough." Mrs. Connely said from behind the bar. "The poor cailin's had enough sorrow for one day, and you can leave off heaping more on her. Finish your beer or be off with you!"

Harry rounded on the woman, his eyes narrowed in his sharp face. "And who are you to give me a hiding over a high handed English chit, biddy Connely? I'd lay odds she's a load of money on her as well, with the fine dress she had on her. If a few of the lads were to-"

"And you can get out of this pub right now with talk like that, Harry McGrath!" Mr. Connely roared, coming out from behind the bar. His mustache bristled as he glared down at the smaller man. "Go on, get out! I'll not have the law down on us on top of all our other troubles! Out!"

Harry glared up at him. "Fine. I'll get out. I wouldn't drink with the likes of you anyhow." He stamped to the door, kicked it open and strode out into the falling night.

…

The lone figure wound his way down the path towards his cabin, seething inside himself. He hated Matt Connely. Hated the old biddy his wife. And that had been the last if his money, and would be the last of his stout for who knew how long. And his food. He'd be hungry tomorrow. The English girl wouldn't be, he'd lay odds. He hated that little English brat with her well fed face and gold in her pockets. He kicked a stone, sending it skittering down the lane. English tart. Lording it over them all, pretending to take pity.

Maybe he would just see if he would find her up on Knock-na-Cu. He didn't need the others for that chit. And if she said a thing, why, strange things happened on the hill did they not? He turned his steps off the path. In little time he'd reached the foot of the hill, the stones at the top outlined against the fading sky.

The girl had to be here somewhere. He started around the side of the hill, where there was a path leading up.

Coming around the side, he heard a sound, like something falling on the grass. And there was a flash of white. But when got a good look, it wasn't the English girl at all.

A woman was walking towards him. She wore only a thin, pale shift of a dress that billowed about her legs, though there was little wind tonight. Harry swallowed in a throat that had gone dry. The woman was beautiful, with honey-gold hair that fell below her waist. She smiled as she met his eyes. "Well met, my man."

Harry took a deep breath, and was very careful with his words. It wouldn't do to upset one of the fair folk, for that was what she must be. No woman had a look like that in these days.

"Good evenin', your ladyship. Blessings on you and your kin."

She stepped closer, so close that he could have reached out and touched her. "I have travelled long and long man, and am much wearied. Much in need. I need a thing of you."

The man stared at her, at her great bright eyes. Something compelled him to reach out a hand."What do you need, m'lady?"

She took his hand.

When it came, Harry McGrath's scream was so weak that it hardly made a sound.


	3. Chapter 3

3

The Walker opened the door to the console room, her eyes scanning the reading pad in her hand."Grandfather, I think you should have a look at these-" she looked up as a cry sounded from below the grating of the console room.

"Ah!" the Doctor pulled himself out of the understory and raced to the main monitor. "I've got it! It's not a power leak, never was! Ooh, should've kept those panels closer to the surface, would've saved us so much time!"

The Walker watched him with wide eyes. "Grandfather?"

"It's not a leak!" the Doctor repeated as he studied the readings with feverish attention. "Never was! The power's being tapped somehow! Now I've just got to figure out where the tap's from, licckety split!"

"But you can't tap a TARDIS." the Walker replied automatically, "It can't be done by outside force."

"Never say can't." the Doctor remonstrated. He studied the figures he'd pulled up, reaching over to pull another screen closer. After a long moment, he turned preoccupied eyes on his granddaughter. "Didn't you want to show me something?"

The Walker, who'd been looking over his shoulder, started. "Wh-oh yes. I thought you ought to have a look at these readings. I've done a mapping of the area's electromagnetic and chrononic fields in an effort to discover any irregularities that might account for the state the ships are in, and…well, look." She handed over the reading pad. The Doctor took it, his brows furrowed, and studied the information. After a moment's study, he looked up, eyes wide. "When'd you take these?"

"Within the last hour. But I don't understand-"

"No, neither do I. And that's saying something." The Doctor murmured. Turning back to the screen, he scrolled through the displays. "There are irregularities in the electromagnetic field, an' from the looks of it they're-now that can't be right…blimey. They're everywhere. Overlaying each other, even." His eyebrows rose. "And is it just me, or does it look like someone took an eggbeater to the time signatures around here? Things popping back and forth in time at something of a frantic rate, and…isn't this big spike right around here?"

"I believe it's concentrated on the hill we've landed on." The Walker replied.

"Oh, it would be." The Doctor said. He sighed, then glanced back at the console. "Give me an hour to try to block the source of this energy drain, and then I think we'd better do some inconspicuous-very inconspicuous, that is- investigating. It's a bit too much of a coincidence that our ship just _happens_ to run out of power in a spot that just _happens _to have irregularities in the middle of a fixed period in Time. Tell Jenny; think she's in the back store room if I remember right. Ask the TARDIS if you don't find her in there. Then we'll see what we can sort out."

…

The morning wind lifted the Doctor's coat, billowing it out as he studied the top of the hill. Things seemed normal enough, as this part of the world went. And yet…

"Anything?" Jenny asked, coming to stand beside him. Her skirt billowed in the wind.

"Not yet." He said, his eyes narrowed. He turned, hair tossed by the wind. "Hm. Ought to see something based on the readings, but…nothing." He frowned, turning to survey the landscape beyond, then turned, studying the stones that the TARDIS had mimicked. He put a hand against them as he passed, sniffed one stone, and, just in case, licked another. Nothing he could identify as out of the ordinary. He shrugged to himself, and wandered past the stones to look out. The cravat he wore chafed at his throat, but he resisted the urge to tug at it. He hadn't worn a cravat in two regenerations, and he'd rather gotten out of practice with them, though at least the suits they wore in this time period still looked good. He'd found a decent brown suit in the Wardrobe appropriate for the nineteenth century, one he'd worn and liked in his eighth body. The collar got on his nerves now, but at least it wouldn't stick out.

A murmur of noise caught the Doctor's attention. Stepping to the other side of the hill, he looked down.

A crowd had gathered at the foot of the hill, seven or eight people in all. They were unnaturally silent for a gathering. He wouldn't have noticed a sound, he thought, if somebody down there wasn't crying.

Now that he paid attention, the crowd was also out of sync with the timelines, Time moving sluggishly around the little huddle like water that has just encountered a stone. A textbook perfect picture of something occurring outside of the parameters of a set timeline. He didn't like the look of that. This could be-

The Doctor's eyes widened in shock. As he watched, the timelines straightened themselves. Where they had been tangling around an irregular event, now they flowed smooth as silk.

"How the…" he stared at the even, flowing timelines. Without really thinking about it, he took off down the hill. He had to get a closer look at this.

A few people looked up at him as he trotted down the slope, then lowered their eyes to the center of the circle. The weeping woman, an older lady with grey hair, was using her shawl to wipe her streaming eyes and sobbing.

"We'll have to be getting' the priest." One man said.

"Priest?" the Doctor asked, "Is somebody hurt? I'm a doctor; if there's anybody hurt I can help."

The man nearest him, a well-built man with dark hair, turned slowly. "There's little you can do, sir. Doctors are for the living."

On the other side of the circle, the woman wailed.

The Doctor pushed himself into the circle. A body was sprawled on the path, arms and legs flung wide. The skin was grey in the morning light.

Dropping to one knee, the Doctor studied the body. "Who is this man?"

"'Is name's Harry McGrath." A man with sandy hair said, "And since his mother's here now, we'll be taking him home."

The Doctor looked up, then stood, straightening his jacket. Nineteenth century wordchoices, he reminded himself. "Yes, of course you will. Only thing to do. But could you give me a few moments with the body? I'd like to find out how he died."

"Died on the foot of Knock-na-Cu." One man said, his tone implying that no other reason was needed. The Doctor glanced at him. He'd have to find out what superstitions surrounded this hill, if it made people accept death around it so readily.

The woman wailed again. Other women in the crowd rushed to comfort her. Turning back to the Doctor, the men regarded him. "I don't see as that's needed." A white haired man said gravely. Other men in the crowd nodded or murmured agreement.

"Well," the Doctor said, meeting the old man's eyes, "I see as it is. And I'd assume that the town constable will feel the same. The examination will only take a minute."

The old man stared back at him, his face wearied beyond anger."We can't pay you."

"That's not a problem." The Doctor said. After a moment, still holding the old man's gaze, he dropped to one knee and went about his work. Surreptitiously, one hand reached into a pocket, flicking the controls of his sonic screwdriver. He needed all the biodata on this. It would do a full reading through the fabric of his coat. His hand reappeared with a magnifying glass. "Hm." He said, mostly for effect. Externally there wasn't a sign of what had happened. Of course, this could be nothing. Maybe this man had simply died. Maybe this was none of his business. But somehow, he doubted that.

"Well?" said the elderly man. The Doctor straightened.

"Cardiac arrest." He said blithely. "His heart gave out. Could've happened anywhere at any time, really, but some little scare or other tipped it off last night. I'm sorry."

The old man nodded. "We'll be takin' him home now."

Slowly, four men lifted the body, carrying it off down the path toward the village. The Doctor watched them go.

"That was the man who gave me trouble last night."

The Doctor turned to look at his daughter, her deep blue eyes shining in a face that had gone blank. "You didn't tell me this."

…

"And you _swear_ you didn't get involved at all?" The Doctor asked as his daughter opened the door to the med bay. She glanced over her shoulder. "I swear, Father."

"You sure?"

"Cross my hearts and hope to regenerate." she said earnestly. "I just walked out of there and came home."

The Doctor nodded to himself. "Well, it may just be a coincidence and I may be poking where poking isn't required, but in my experience the universe really doesn't like coincidences, so I'm going to look into this anyhow. Might as well, since the old girl won't let me do a bloody thing anyhow."

"Still losing power?"

"Holding steady for now, but it's not good. Now, let's see…"

Taking his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, he plugged it into a reader. A holographic image of the body appeared on the monitors. He flicked several switches, and the body reappeared as a skeleton, muscle-man, and naked human. The readings for the body flipped past. The Doctor's brows shot up. "Blimey."

Jenny peered at the readings. "Shit."

Her father shot her a disparaging glance. "Do you have to curse?"  
Jenny glanced up at him, and shrugged, before looking back at the figures. "His whole body shut down. All the systems…"

"Mm-hmm. Every system in his body gave up the ghost. But why?" Turning to another monitor, the Doctor slipped on his glasses and began to type at a speed that made his fingers blur, studying the readings that came up as he manipulated the information. He stepped back. "Well that'd do it. Look at this."

Jenny stopped fiddling with the high collar of her dress, and studied the figures. She stared.

"I did this on a hunch." The Doctor said quietly, "And the hunch was right. There's not a single ATP molecule in this body. He's completely empty of chemical energy. And without energy, his body couldn't function." he studied the images. "Like running out of petrol."

"Know anything that can do this?" Jenny asked. The Doctor shook his head slowly. "No. One or two things can do it, but nothing living around here. And I wouldn't have missed those signs." He glanced at his daughter. "Frankly I've got no idea." He drew a deep breath, and switched off the readings."This is going to need looking into, I think."

"I thought you said we couldn't interfere. Fixed place in time?" Jenny cocked her head. The Doctor turned to look at her."If I'm right, somebody's started interfering before us."

…

The energy was still holding at about thirty percent in the Walker's ship. While the Doctor worked on gathering information, Jenny handed the Walker tools. Her sister's ship was a lot less cantankerous than her father's, and a lot less likely to shock them while they tried to figure out what was going on. Besides, it meant that she could shuck the damn dress.

"Could you pass me that rectan again?"

Jenny handed it over, enjoying the comfort of a pair of jeans. The Walker glanced at her shirt, and grinned. Jenny had pulled on a faded black t-shirt that read 'My parents went to Sol 3 and all I got was this stupid human' in the buccari script. Jenny smiled back. "Father thought I was wasting money buying this."

"I'd disagree with Grandfather on that. It's quite amusing." Turning back to her work, Walker tilted her head, frowned, and ran a hand over the surface of the manifold in front of her. "How much has Grandfather let you work on the manifolds?"

"Not a whole lot." Jenny said with a shrug, leaning against the wall. "His TARDIS gets cranky with me because she thinks I move too fast."

The Walker could see why the ship would feel that way. Her younger sister- her young aunt, if she was being appropriate-really did tend to jump in with both feet and find out if she could swim afterwards.

Deep in the manifold of her ship, there was a small, metallic whimper. A thin brown line of weariness ran through the Walker's head. Reaching out a hand, she stroked the metal skin of her ship. "What is wrong?" she murmured. Jenny heard a hint of the reply from her sister's ship. It sounded bewildered, and a little sad. It didn't know.

Soon the Doctor popped in. "We're going to the pub for lunch. Get your clothes on."

"The pub?" the Walker asked.

"Course." The Doctor replied, "Always the best place for overhearing interesting information, pubs. And I've got a few things I'd like to hear. Get changed, an' I'll tell you what I could find on the databanks."

As the Walker and Jenny changed into the hated dresses in the Walker's room, the Doctor leaned against the wall in the hallway and talked through the door. "So, this hill is apparently named Knock-na-Cu, Hill of the Hound that means, County Meath. Town below it's called Bally Cu. No stories written down about it that I found, but a fair number of odd deaths and one or two disappearances in this decade…anyway…how much longer?"

"A little time, Grandfather."

"Ah, right…well, the stories are odd, but not totally unusual, still, it makes me wonder. We're losing energy, and the fellow died from loss of energy, and then this on top of it isn't good. I figure we sit around at the pub, hear what we hear, see what we see and all that. And with any luck-" He turned as the girls came out.

"We'll hear something useful." Jenny said.

"Exactamente." The Doctor said. "Come on."

…

The pub was emptier than it had been the last time they'd been in, and that was saying something. The Doctor ordered three glasses of stout, and found a table.

_So much for listening on the local conversation._ He commented to his family. Jenny shrugged. The Walker frowned slightly.

Behind the bar, a middle-aged woman with fading brownish hair poured out ale. Mary O'Hara was back there too, scrubbing at something. It looked like she was doing all right.

There wasn't much conversation. In fact, there was barely any.

"I suppose people must all be at the wake, hm?" the Doctor asked as their drinks were served. The woman shrugged, already walking away as she answered. "I wouldn't be knowing about that sir."

The Time Lords looked at each other, and the Doctor shrugged. "Think we can get anything for lunch here?" he asked after a moment, looking around the room. "I'm starved." He glanced around, and shook his head. "No, probably not."

The pub door opened, making the Time Lords look up. A thin man walked in, and from the reaction of the few patrons it might have been a tiger that had just entered. Somebody important then. The Doctor watched as the sandy-haired man glanced toward the bar, then swept the room. Law enforcement type, the Doctor decided. He'd bet a regeneration on it.

The eyes focused on him. The man strode over, and nodded. "Inspector Burnstied." He said in a clipped London accent, "I've been told that you're the doctor who examined the man from the village?"

"Yes." the Doctor said, "I'm Doctor Good."

"A pleasure." the inspector said shortly. "Now sir, would you mind telling me the details of your examination?"

"There's really very little to say." the Doctor replied blandly. "The man's heart failed. We call it a coronary arrest, technically a coronary infarction. Essentially his heart just gave up."

"A coronary?" the inspector asked, quirking an eyebrow, "At his age?"

"Chronic lack of food can weaken the muscle tissue in the heart." the Doctor replied coolly. "Makes it vulnerable to sudden shocks."  
"Ah." said the officer, "Of course. Well, I'm sorry to have to bother you sir. I've been ordered to check all deaths in the area, much of a nuisance as it is."

"A man's dead." the Doctor said quietly. "That's not a nuisance."

"Of course." the inspector said calmly. "Now sir, could you tell me where you'll be staying, if you wouldn't mind."

"Actually," the Walker said, "We won't be here for long. We're investigating the stones up on top of Knock-na-Cu."

"Yes," the Doctor said quickly, playing off the story, "my family has a real interest in archeology. We're in a few tents up on top of the hill. You know, roughing it. Builds up the immune system and all that."  
The officer nodded, eyebrows raised. "Yes, well, thank you." Nodding, he turned away, and was soon out the door.

The Doctor glanced from one young woman to the other, brows raised.

_Remind me to change the chameleon circuit._

Aloud, he said "What do you say we take off?" he glanced up as Mary came walking over, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Was th' constable askin' after Harry McGrath?" she asked, flipping her braided hair back over one shoulder. "That's a wake that won't be much attended. Did his heart really give out, sir?"

"Pretty much." the Doctor replied, pushing himself out of his chair. "And now we'll be getting along."

"Back up to Knock-na-Cu?"

"Yes," the Walker said, "We're studying the stones and investigating the culture that put them up."

"Ah." the girl said, her eyes wide. "And you'll be staying up there? I'm sure someone hereabouts would offer you a place in one of the big houses."

"Thanks," said the Doctor, "But we're pretty deep in our work." He paused, then on a whim turned back to Mary. "Speaking of our work, we'd like to know the stories about the hill. Anything and everything really. And-"

The pub door opened, and a young man hurried in. Thin as a rail, he cocked his hat back, looking around the room. He hurried over to the bar, then turned to the table.

"Mary!" the boy came over. Mary smiled. "Hello William."

"I just heard about what was done, an' I was comin' to-" then he glanced at the table."Oh, h'lo."

"William, this is Doctor Good, Miss Jenny and Miss-"

"Rhia." The Walker said. Resignedly, the Doctor sat back down. He wasn't getting out any time soon.

The young man pulled up a chair for Mary, and another for himself, smiling at the Doctor.

"I heard that you were the one to help our Mary. I thank you for that."

"Course." Jenny said.

"William," Mary said, "these people are after learning about the stones on Knock-na-Cu. They were asking after the stories about them."

"Is that so?" the boy said. He turned blue eyes on them. "What sort of stories would those be?"

"Any that you know." the Doctor replied.

The boy shrugged. "Well, every rock in Erin has a tale about it. Most aren't much."

"Yes, but we've got a special interest in these stories." the Doctor said, leaning towards the boy. He checked the timelines quickly before saying "And we wouldn't mind paying for them."

Ears perked up, and chairs moved closer to the table.

"Well, said William, "Knock-na-Cu is a queer place and no mistake. It has its name because right on that spot, one of the hounds of the devil hisself came out of the earth. It lay waste to the land until the king of the People of the Hill, Lough of the Long Arm, came to fight him."

Others nodded and murmured agreement. The storyteller opened his arms expansively.

"Oh, it was a long and bloody battle. The Hound was finally brought to bay, and Lough put his great spear into it, and killed it, and the People of the Hill raised the stones on its back to mark the battle."

"Yes," said another man, "But even now it's a queerish place. It's a place for the gathering of dark things, and at times the worst of the Little People come to it and woe betide any men who meet them."

"They'll take a man away with them." an elderly woman said as if sharing juicy gossip, "Or maybe kill him entire."

"Yes," William said, "Like poor Arnie O'Hattary."

"And don't forget Patrick McCartney."

"And what about old O'Leary? Now that was a story."

….

It was the middle of the afternoon before the Doctor stood and handed out coins.

"Could we walk you up to the stones?" William asked. Mary shot him a glare, shaking her head. But the Doctor shrugged, trying to make himself look relaxed.

"Why not." he glanced at Jenny. _Run up and change the chameleon circuit before we get there, okay?_

_Right._ Jenny nodded to the humans as she hurried out of the room. Mary looked after her quizzically.

"It's amazing how many stories managed to crop up around a single small hill." the Walker said, trying to keep the conversation light as they left the pub.

"Aye, strange it is." the young man beside Mary said. "And stranger still that anyone wouldn't know to stay away from the place." he glanced at his companions. "Not that it's anything but old stories."

"Oh I don't know." the Doctor said quietly. "Old stories sometimes have a grain of truth to them. You'd be surprised."

"And the storytellers really were quite amusing." the Walker added. "Especially the older fellow who whistled between his teeth when he spoke." She glanced at the two humans with a smile, but both had their heads down.

After a moment, the Walker glanced at her grandfather. _Was there anything in that discourse that you found important?_

He glanced at her, and gave a small shrug. _Not really, aside from the fact that they know something happens here. They wrapped it up in their own mythology of earth-based spirits-that's the Hill People they were talking about- and just about anything could cover themselves in the guise of fairies. _

_But not anything could tap into a TARDIS power supply._

_No. Not many things can pull a trick like that. There are things that the fairy stories were based on. They're nasty. Existence outside of time, far too much power. Deeply attached to this planet too. But this isn't their kind of thing. _

_Do you think we could manage a trip on reduced power?_

He shook his head slightly. _I wouldn't risk it. And coming from me, that's saying something._

Beside him, the Walker sighed. The dirt beneath their feet crunched.

"All the same," the Walker said, "it is lovely country."

The Doctor looked up, then nodded. "Mm. The Emerald Isle, they call it."

"If it wasn't so troubled, this country would be Eden." Mary said. "But as it is-"

The flash through the Doctor's head blocked out the rest of what the girl was saying. It was Jenny. Jenny, and she was shocked. _Father! Something's happening up here!_

"Jenny." the Doctor said. He started to jog forward.

"Grandfather? What's-"

The Doctor whirled when he heard the gasp. The Walker stood frozen, her head tilted up.

She turned, her eyes wide. "Grandfather, something's wrong… My ship…my ship!" with a terrified glance, she sprinted past him. Her grandfather dashed after her, following up the side of the hill. Above them the stones rose stark against the sky.

_Walker! What-_

_It's my ship! She's being drained of power! I've got to get to her._

On the brow of the hill, Jenny's silhouette was picked out against the blue of the sky. The Doctor pumped his legs harder. But however fast he ran, he seemed to gain no speed. The air thickened until it felt as if he was drawing water into his lungs. They reached the top of the hill. The air shimmered like a heat mirage between the stones.

_What the hell is going on?_

Mary cried out behind them. "You mustn't step foot into th'circle! Ye mustn't! Tis to the Hill Folk you'll go if y' do!"

The Doctor ignored the shout behind him, running to canvas tents that concealed his ship. Then he froze. His eyes widened, his head tilting back. Jenny was right. Something up here was wrong. So wrong. Something was disturbing spacetime.

"Jenny, Walker." He called, "Get out of here. Run. Get into the ship. Now!"

There was a rumble like thunder. The air seemed to thicken, the pressure aching in the Doctor's chest. This was bad. Every iota of his body was screaming at him to get out of this area.

…

Jenny moved to follow her father's order. She felt as if she was standing on ground that was shifting. Everything seemed to wobble, and the bright sunshine seemed to spin at odd angles, making her dizzy. Then something flashed, just in the center of the circle, a light so bright that Jenny threw up her hands on reflex.

And then it was over. She looked up.

There was a man standing in the center of the circle, his head tipped back. A tall, pale man, his dark hair in a wild tangle of curls. He drew a deep breath. His head lowered, eyes staring at the stone ahead of him. "Ah. I am here." He let out a sighing laugh. Then he swayed. His knees gave way, and he slowly toppled to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

4

For a moment, the top of the hill was silent. They stared at the sprawled figure. The Doctor stepped forward warily, one hand raised to hold his daughter back.

"What's wrong with his lines?" Jenny asked quietly. In the Time Lords' eyes the man glowed, his timelines unlike anything Jenny had ever seen. Rather than being like a wrapping of threads encompassing possibilities in past and future, the man's time signature was like a bright corona, giving a soft glow to his pale skin. It was pretty, Jenny thought. But it was also unnatural.

"Not quite sure." the Doctor murmured. "They are odd. More than odd. Positively… Let's see if he's got a pulse."

"Don't touch him." Mary's ragged voice was sharp in the air. The Walker glanced at her where she stood, breathing hard from her run up the hill. "Mary, they're quite capable of discerning danger."

The girl looked at her with eyes that were huge in her thin face. "Can't you see?" she said in a half whisper. "Tis one of the Fair Folk he is. Y'mustn't touch him."

The Time Lords ignored her. Kneeling down, the Doctor put two fingers to the man's pale brow, brushing back a few dark curls. He closed his eyes, trying to reach the man and wake him. His forehead creased.

"I'm not getting anything. Not a thing." he said quietly.

"That's weird." Jenny said, dropping to her haunches beside her father.

"Bit more than weird, Jenny." The Doctor muttered. "Quite a bit more than a simple little 'weird'"

"He's alive, isn't he?" Jenny asked calmly.

"Obviously, Jenny, you can see him breathing. But…"

The Doctor stood, crossing his arms as he stared down, his forehead creased. For a long moment, he studied the man. Then he drew a deep breath, looking around. "Walker, your ship all right now?"

"I believe so. She's no longer frightened, though she's lost another five percent of her power. Was he the cause, in your approximation?"

The Doctor nodded. He glanced at his family, then at the humans, and back down at the man. "Mm. And perhaps when we know who he is and where he's from, we'll know what's going on." He turned to the two humans, staring at him with frightened eyes. "I know this all seems strange. It is strange. But nothing's going to hurt you, all right?"

Both of them nodded, slowly.

"And what was it about a ship?" William asked, still staring at the man. "The sea's miles away."

"Oh, don't worry about that. She was talking about something else." the Doctor said, putting on all the false cheer he could muster. "Well, no sense standing about. Come on-" leaning down, the Doctor took the pale man's shoulders carefully. "We'll take him down to the pub."

"Perhaps he shouldn't be moved." the Walker murmured. "There is the possibility of brain damage."  
"There's also cold ground under him, and he needs somewhere warm to lay down." the Doctor said shortly. "He didn't fall hard enough for brain damage." With a look at his granddaughter, he rolled his eyes and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He ran it over the man's face. It was a rather nice face, the Walker noted. More than nice, actually. The stranger had a bone structure that managed to be at once strong and delicate, pale as white marble.

The Doctor checked his readings. "No apparent head trauma, see? Now, 'nuff shilly-shallying. On we go." he lifted the man's shoulders. The Walker took up his feet. She walked, her mind wandering away from a matter that it could not yet sort out and into old, familiar grievances. It was really quite annoying when Grandfather acted like that. He seemed to forget she wasn't eighty anymore, the little girl he'd taken out for a spin around the universe and introduced to everyone as Susan. Granted, they hadn't seen each other for a number of years, with him off travelling and her finding her own way. She might be an adult of three hundred and eighty years and a diplomat in her own right, but she was still the baby he'd held the day she was Loomed in his mind, in spite of anything she could say. Besides, it was her grandfather. And it was a bit of an odd situation, even for him.

"Jenny," the Doctor said, "Get ahead of us."

Jenny nodded, turning to jog down the path.

"How did he get here? Could that have been a transmat beam?" the Walker asked.

"Definitely not." the Doctor murmured, eyes studying the man in his arms. "But truth to tell I'm not sure what it was. Let's get him inside and then we'll talk."

She nodded. Soon they were down the hill. Jenny jogged to the pub ahead of them. She pulled the door open, holding it for her father. Mary hurried inside ahead of them, showing a bit more initiative. "Clear a space, all of you! We've a lad who's fainted dead away here, an' he needs a place to lie his head. You lot, get off th' table there an' clear it!"

In under five minutes they were standing around the young man where he lay on a long wood table, quiet and still, his head pillowed on an elderly woman's shawl.

Jenny stared at him, her forehead creased. Something was wrong with him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. It might have been his scrambled lines, but she didn't think that was all. It definitely wasn't his looks. With that dark brown hair that curled around his face and his long, lean frame, he was kind of hot. He looked to be around the same age as the Walker.

The Doctor stood reflectively, hands in his pockets as he looked over the unconscious man. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver again, running it over the man's body as he spoke to himself. "Strangest thing, showing up like that. Getting here did quite the number on him too. Um, please don't lay your shawl on him until I'm done with my examination, thanks. Temperature…thirty-seven and a half degrees Celsius. Mmm." the Doctor stared down, studying. Beside him, the barwoman stepped forward, laying a hand on his forehead.

"A bit warm, but no fever. Poor lad. He must've had little enough food. I'll get the feathers."

"Feathers?" Jenny asked.

"Burning feathers create a scent that often wakes people." the Walker said absently. She glanced at Mary, who was murmuring to the other members of the pub. She could see the news spread as faces changed from dispassionate watching to surprise.

"D'you think his kin will come looking for 'im?" One of the elderly men who'd told stories asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "No idea, since I don't know who they are." he turned. "Jenny, when he arrived, what'd you see?"

"Nothing." Jenny said shortly. "That light was blinding."

"Smell anything?"

"Nothing much. Maybe ozone and nickel."

"Mm. What about you, Walker? Notice anything?"

The girl shook her head slowly. "Only the light and a slight spatial disturbance. Very odd."

The Doctor nodded."Mm. Odd is the word of the day, it seems." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So what we've got is a fellow, no idea where he came from. Popped into the middle of that circle without so much as a by-your- leave. And he's out cold. He's impossible to reach through psychic channels, he's got scrambled timelines, he's been doing time jumping or really bad shunt technology or some sort of transmat, maybe, and-"

"He's awake."

The Doctor and Jenny turned. The stranger's eyes were indeed open, wide and green. For a moment he lay completely still, eyes studying the wide beams of the ceiling. Then he sat up, glancing at the table he lay on, and around the room. He picked at the shawl that had been draped over him, pulled it off and studied it with distant interest. He glanced down at the long green tunic and brown trousers he wore, and nodded slowly to himself. Then his eyes roved over the people in the room, taking each of them in a calm, analyzing gaze. Jenny watched the people in the crowd look away from his eyes. Some of them made gestures with their hands that were probably protective. The man turned, and his eyes settled on the Doctor. He cocked his head, looking the Doctor over curiously. Then he glanced away.

"Am I in Erin?" he asked to no one in particular.

The words sounded like Gallifreyan to Jenny. But Mary had apparently heard Irish, since she answered in the same language, giving a small curtsey. "You are, and most welcome, your honor."

Now that was neat, Jenny thought. He must have some sort of specialized translator.

"Ah." The man's head tilted back, eyes roving over the rafters of the pub. "Good. I thank you."

Slowly, he set his bare feet on the ground, and stood, one hand on the table. His legs wobbled, and only his hand on the table kept him upright when one of his knees gave out. He drew a breath, and straightened again, staring at his legs as he took a step, then another. Slowly, he let go of his table, and stood swaying. He turned, and gave Jenny the same sort of interested, analytical study that he'd given her father.

"You see the fourth plane." he stated. Jenny blinked.

"Yeah, I do."

"What is this, then?"

It took a minute for Jenny to figure out what he meant. Time. He meant what time was this. "It's the nineteenth century." Jenny said. "Eighteen forty nine."

The man nodded slightly. He took another step. "I need to touch the land." He took two steps, and disappeared. The room reverberated with gasps. The Doctor's dark eyes widened.

"What the?"

"By Rassilon!" the Walker exclaimed. Then the man was back, beside the Doctor.

"My apologies. I forgot how it is done here." he inclined his head.

There was a scramble for the door, clearing the room of about half its patrons. The man watched them go with polite disinterest, then turned back to the Time Lords, appraising them.

"You are not of this land."

"No." the Doctor replied. "And I'd make a guess that you're not either." he stepped forward." I'm the Doctor. Who are you?"

The man looked at the Doctor, puzzled. "Who am I?"

"Yes." Said the Doctor, "Who are you? What name do you use?"

The man paused for a long moment, his eyes unfocused.

"They call me Ramble." He said, and nodded to himself. "Ramble." He murmured again. For a moment, the minds of the Time Lords were filled with images of roads, thousands of roads, the feel of wind, feet walking. The Doctor glanced at his daughter, his eyebrows raised, before turning back to the stranger with a cheery smile. "Right, Ramble. Congratulations on making it to Earth, seeing as how it must've taken the mickey out of you doing it, but I'm here to tell you that this is a really, really bad place for anybody nonnative to be messing about. You said that we see Time, so I'm guessing that you can see it too. Look around, and you'll see that this isn't exactly the sort of place you should be messing with. By the way," he asked offhandedly, "how'd you get here?"

The pale man looked at him, his head canting to the side. "How did I get here?" he said slowly. He glanced back at the Doctor, his face thoughtful. "I walked…I walked a new path." He said carefully, as if testing the words before using them. "There are few new paths, and it was…difficult. We have roads, but they are…being blocked. I have come very far. Yes. I know the danger. But…there was much need for me to come here, to find a new trail we can walk. I-" His eyelids fluttered, and he swayed. "I need to touch the land. Please, how do you leave this place, in your way?"

"The door usually does it." The Doctor said dryly. Jenny pushed the door open. An expression like relief washed across the stranger's face."Thank you."

As he stepped outside, the Doctor watched him with narrowed eyes. He moved like he'd practiced the gestures in a mirror. They were somehow stiff, as if he didn't know how to move the joints. Could it be a disguise? No, the Doctor decided. He felt for the consciousness, and encountered one, though it felt distant, unreadable. But it was a single consciousness, without anything fighting behind it. So no parasite riding in a human-or human looking-body. The body was his. And it didn't look like any sort of suit or holo projection. He just didn't know what to do with it. And that disappearing act...it was familiar. He knew he'd seen this kind of behavior before. But where?

"So, your lot come here much?" he asked, "Who are your lot, by the way?"

"What?" the man asked, turning to stare at the Doctor. He was a little taller than the Time Lord, and though they were eye to eye the Doctor got the feeling that this man wasn't really looking at him. His whole consciousness seemed unfocused.

"Your people." the Doctor repeated. "Can you tell me where you're from? Time period?"

The man shook his head, and walked to a grassy patch at the side of the path. Dropping down, he dug his fingers into the grass, and sighed. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes heavy-lidded.

"I…cannot tell you time as you know it. It is…I apologize. I cannot put it into words."

"Okay, fine." The Doctor said quickly, dropping to his haunches. "Can you tell me what your people are called?"

The stranger shrugged awkwardly. "We are the Kin. Men call us Fair Folk."

"Right," the Doctor said, "But what do other species call you? Non-human species, I mean. If I'm going to help you I need to know your species name. Where's your planet?"

The man shook his head. "I…we have none. Home is…Home." He gave the Doctor a look that seemed to say 'you know what I mean, right?' For a moment, the Doctor's mind was filled with a swirl of color and a feeling of safety. He raised his mental shields.

"Can you give me your species name, under the Species Ratification Act?"

The man stared at him, blinking. "Species act?"

"Yes. You know, the Species Ratification Act passed by the Shadow Proclamation."

The man who called himself Ramble looked up with half-open eyes.

"Shadow?"

"O-kay." The Doctor said slowly, "Maybe you don't know that one. What about the Peaceful Coalition of Planets? The Act of Alignment even? Anything? Any name would do, really, I'm sure I can look it up somewhere."

The man held up one long hand, turning his head away. The Doctor noted that his long fingers had four joints. Definitely not human, then. If there had been any question about that.

"Please," he said slowly, "no more words. I need to breathe. I need to feel this land." He opened his eyes slowly.

"I will tell you all that I can, when…when I come to myself. Please…give me time. I need time."

"Right. Course." The Doctor said, "Take all the time you need. I'll just be over here when you're ready."

Standing, he paced back to where the Walker and Jenny were watching. Behind them, the braver members of the town were clustered in a huddle near the pub door.

"He looks sick." Jenny said, studying the man with her arms crossed. "Exhaustion. How long do you think he'll remain incapacitated?" the Doctor shrugged.

"He reminds me of a man recovering from regeneration sickness." the Walker murmured. She glanced back at the man, who had lain back in the grass and closed his eyes. "Could you make any sense of what he was saying, Grandfather?"

"Not much." The Doctor said, studying the stranger. He glanced back at the huddled humans. "He gave me the name that humans call them. Fair folk. But that doesn't tell us anything; anybody can cover themselves up with a handy bit of mythology; done it myself once or twice. He said it was important that he get here and find some path, but wasn't too clear on the reasons there either."

"He talked a great deal about roads and paths." the Walker said, "But I've never heard of a spatial manipulation technology referred to like that."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, me neither. He seemed to be having trouble understanding us, too."

"Then that's two of us." Jenny said. "Because I just don't get him. It looks like his timelines don't have any cause or affect to them. Almost like Jack's. Except-"

"Except that he feels completely kosher, if a bit strange." the Doctor mused. "Jack sets us on edge, but this fellow doesn't give off so much as a twinge. He belongs in the universe. He just…doesn't make sense."

"He's fay." said a voice behind them, "He won't follow mortal sense." The Doctor turned, looking down into Mary's solemn face.

"Is he angry?" Mary asked. "Are his people angered with us, that they brought the blight upon us? Did y'ask?"

"He's not angry." the Doctor said, "And from what I know I can tell you that his people didn't bring the blight. It was bad weather and disease that did that, Mary, not supernatural forces."

"But what does he want?"

"Apparently he wants to lie in the sun." the Doctor said blandly, glancing back at the man who might be asleep. He knew he'd seen something like this fellow before. A bit different, maybe, but something very like him in behavior at least. What, though?

"There's them that say this will bring more trouble down upon us." Mary said in a nervous murmur. "They say we never should have touched one of the Tuatha de Dannan."

"Now don't go getting-"The Doctor stopped mid sentence. He looked down at Mary, eyes wide.

"Did you say Dannan?"

Mary nodded.

"The Tuatha de Dannan."

"Dannan." The Doctor repeated, murmuring, his eyes falling to the man's pale face. "But that's wrong. Not Dannan. Oh, of course!" he exclaimed, pushing both hands into his hair. "It's not Dannan at all; Danu. A Danu! The Celtic peoples here must've heard the word, and they incorporated it into their language, corrupted the pronunciation as they passed it down. I _knew_ I recognized that behavior, but it's been so long, and he's using different techniques. I can't _believe_ this."

"Danu?" the Walker's voice took on a sharp edge. Her grandfather nodded. "Look at him. Take a good look at him, Walker. Look for the power under all that confusion."

The Walker stared. Her eyes grew wide. "A Danu." she breathed.

Jenny glanced from the prone man to her family. "Is that what he is?"

The Doctor nodded, eyes fixed. "It's one of their names." he said quietly. "They call themselves A Danu." The Doctor stared at the prone man, his face unreadable. "But we usually call them other things."

"What?"

The Doctor met his daughter's gaze, his eyes wide and dark. "Gods. The Endless. Eternals."


	5. Chapter 5

5

"_Eternal._" The Doctor shook his head, one hand ruffling his dark hair into spikes. "Can't believe it. _Eternal._"

"What's an Eternal?" Jenny asked, eyeing the stranger guardedly.

"They're beings." her father replied. "Ancient beings." he turned to her. "They're so old that they may have been here before the first singularity-yes, the big bang I mean, but you know I hate it when you call it that- and they're clever like you wouldn't believe. Well, when I say clever, they're very good at manipulation of pretty much everything around them, but some of them aren't too bright when it comes with dealing with people as I remember. But I've never seen one behave like this. No wonder I didn't recognize him for what he was. This is completely against what's known about their behavior. Usually they don't exist in timespace in a truly physical form. They're…" the Doctor glanced at Mary.

_I can give you the details later when we can talk properly._

"For now, I can say that this is very very very odd behavior for one of them. Usually they're not really here in the usual sense of the word. They use the ideas and thoughts of whoever they bump into to form a sort of a projection, a body for their intelligence to inhabit when they interact with this universe. They were thought to be unable to consolidate their entire beings in a four dimensional form, but that lad over there's flesh and blood. Guess we were wrong."

"Consolidate?" Jenny cocked her head. "How big are they?"

"Not big so much as spread out." the Doctor replied absently. "They're multi-dimensional creatures."

"Meaning?" his daughter asked.

"Meaning, they're about as close to gods as you get. Humans see three dimensions and manipulate them, right? We see and manipulate four. Well, these chaps live in all twelve. They don't see things, they see the building blocks of things as a rule. They manipulate the fabric of the universe pretty much any way they want. Only thing that keeps them from running amok is that…well, they've been here so long that running amok doesn't interest them any more. They don't have a consciousness like we do any more, or at least that's what I'd thought. Each Eternal exists with its intelligence, like I said, spread over the entire multidimensional spectrum. That's a lot of being, and so one particular place in timespace is like me taking interest in a particular ant. It happens occasionally, but not as a rule. It's also where they get their name: Eternal. You can't kill them. If the body's destroyed they just go somewhere else. But all that basically boils down to the fact that he" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, " is a slap in the face to everything I know. That man ought to be…by the way, that's why he looks wrong too. His timelines have extra planes to them." he turned, staring at the sleeping stranger.

"Shit." Jenny said, brows raised. Mary shot her a shocked little glance.

"Don't curse." the Doctor said absently.

"So if he's this all powerful thing," Jenny said, taking a step towards the being that looked like a man, "Why's he passed out in the grass?"

"Good question." the Doctor murmured. "Guess we'll have to ask him."

…

It was three hours before the man sat up, shook his head, and looked at the Walker, who'd sat near him while the other members of her family had gone back to the TARDIS to get a bite. People from the town were still watching, and backed off even further when the man glanced around.

"Well met, my lady." he said quietly.

Carefully, the Walker set down her book. "Good afternoon." She replied in the same Irish that he had used. Testing a hypotheses, she asked "Are you feeling rested after your nap?" in Gallifreyan. He nodded.

"I am recovered. My apologies for my earlier confusion." he replied in the same language. "The journeying drained me." he stood, then looked around.

"Your grandfather is upon the hill. Will he return soon?"

"I believe they'll be down in a few minutes." the Walker replied, masking her surprise. She hadn't told him the Doctor was her grandfather.

Ramble cocked his head slightly. "It is not a thing that should be waited on. We will go to them." Reaching out, he touched the Walker's hand.

The Walker pulled back, and nearly knocked her head on the kitchen cabinet. She was sitting on the floor of her grandfather's kitchen. A chair clattered as Jenny leapt to her feet, hands raised in fists. The Eternal looked at her with interest, brushing a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. "Well met. This is how you take in energy in this form, am I right? Food?"

The Doctor nodded. "Most living bodies do it that way." He shot a glance at Jenny, who picked up her chair and sat. The Doctor met the Walker's eyes. _You okay?_

"She is well." the Eternal said quietly, looking around the TARDIS kitchen with interest. The Doctor watched him. "You mind not listening in on our heads?" he asked mildly, "You know, privacy and all that."

"Was I?" the man asked curiously. "Were you not speaking?"

"Not out loud." the Doctor replied.

"Ah." the dark head nodded. "I am still poor at discerning the difference." He glanced around the room. "Where does the food come from?"

"The cupboards, mostly." the Doctor said in his most airy tone, "You hungry?"

"I need energy. I am still somewhat..." a tide of weariness washed through the Time Lord's mind, so heavy that his bones ached. It was gone just as quickly.

"Right." the Doctor said, "The word for that is 'tired'. Little food will fix you up. Course, I didn't know the A Danu ate anything."

Ramble looked up, his eyes brightening. "You know the Kin?"

"I know about them." the Doctor replied. "Though it would've been a treat if you'd just told me your species name instead of leaving it to me to sort out."

Ramble gave a small shrug. "I did not think you would know the word. It is one of ours, and few know it. Strange. You say only half the word. Where did you learn it?" he asked.

"My species-my people-had some contact with yours." the Doctor said quietly.

"And what people are you of?" Ramble asked, turning to look the Doctor in the eye.

"Time Lord." the Doctor stated.

"Time Lord." Ramble repeated slowly. He looked from the Doctor, to the Walker, to Jenny.

"Lords of Time." he nodded, as if deciding he understood.

"You are not as men are." he said slowly. "You are somewhat…greater. You may be of use."

"Oh?" said the Doctor, leaning back in his chair. "Of use in what, exactly?"

Ramble shrugged. He was getting better at it. "May I have the food?"

"Turkey sandwich and chips." the Doctor said after a moment, "Plenty of protein and carbohydrates to fuel cellular regeneration. Jenny, you mind getting out the mayonnaise?"

Jenny stood quickly, and moved to the refrigerator, her eyes never quite leaving the stranger.

Ramble studied the plate set in front of him. He picked the sandwich up slowly, then took a careful bite. His green eyes widened, then he bit down again with gusto. The Doctor shot Jenny a glance. _Apparently turkey is a big hit with our guest._

In no time at all, the food was gone. Ramble smiled. "My thanks. And I must thank you, as well, for the help you gave me in my arrival here."

"The help we gave?" Jenny said sharply.

"Yes." the man said, his tone hinting at surprise. "I could not find my way here. I had lost the road. Then I saw your beacon. There was strength, and I drew upon it. It let me find my way, led me on."

"Well that explains a few things." the Doctor muttered. "That beacon you saw was our ships." he said to the man, "'Fraid that your pulling on them drained them of most of their energy." he let a little annoyance into his tone. "You know, that ought to have given me a clue. The last time my TARDIS got drained of power it was one of you lot."

"I will return the energy." Ramble said distantly. "When there is time." he drew a breath, standing.

"And now we must go. I must act."

They were standing on the shore of a lake where hills rose blue in the distance. Then they were facing a low, wide stone structure roofed over with grass. A stone with swirling carvings barred the door.

"Hold up!" the Doctor called, "What's all the jumping about for?"

Ramble looked over his shoulder, curious. "We must find the place."

"The place for what?"

"For…I must find the proper place. Will you not aid me?"

"Maybe if you tell us what you're doing, we can. We can't help unless we understand, so do me a favor and explain a little before we go haring off, all right?"

Ramble turned. "Very well." He sat in the kitchen chair. The Doctor resisted the urge to glance around at his own kitchen, and suppressed a frustrated sigh.

_I forgot how much I disliked Eternals. I really hate being tossed about like this._

"Are there any more chips?" Ramble asked. "Or water? I believe the water balance is low in my blood. Strange."

"Water we've got." the Doctor said, "And do you mind giving us an explanation? What kind of help do you need?

Ramble turned to look at the Doctor.

It felt for a moment as if he was drowning in images. Blinding light, faces, stars, continents moving, faces painted with spirals, faces crowned with silver, swords. The Doctor calmed himself in the center of the tempest.

_Slow down._ He tried to call out. _I can't understand what you're trying to say. You've got to go slower. _The images flashed by; human and inhuman faces in rage, in joy and in sorrow, children in mother's arms, a gateway of stones, a pool of water that rippled like pure light, a spear. Words flowed by, and each word had volumes of meaning.

_You've got to slow down, this isn't making sense._ He shouted into the maelstrom.

Then he heard another shout.

_STOP IT!_

He was back in the kitchen, breathing hard. Jenny was on her feet, her hands balled into fists, holding a battle pose. Ramble held a hand over his shoulder, his eyes wide, shocked and hurt. He looked down at the dusty boot print marking the fabric over his shoulder, then up at Jenny. She was breathing hard.

"Stay out of my head, you got that? Whatever the hell you were trying to do-"

"You asked what help I needed." Ramble said, his tone injured. "I was showing you. Why did you give me pain?"

"Sorry," the Doctor interrupted, "My daughter didn't understand what you were doing. We don't usually speak in pure images, and I'm not sure we'll understand you that way. Any chance you can explain in words?"

The Eternal paused, then nodded, his face thoughtful. "I can try." he said slowly. "It has been long and long since I made use of many words. I have little skill with them. This may be…difficult."

"Take your time." the Doctor said, sitting back. Ramble nodded.

"I am Ramble." in the Doctor's head the word was an entire paragraph: one who can find a trail and make one where none can be found. A walker of every world. One who travels every distance and never tires. Forever travelling, forever finding new things. Ramble continued. "I was asked to find us a road back into this world. The others have grown desperate to prove their point, and blocked the roads to prove the weakness of our dependence on this type of existence for our energy. But they did not block every way. If I can open this road wider, my kin can gain strength once more." he turned to the Doctor. "Is that enough?"

"Ummmm…no." the Doctor said decisively. "In fact I think I'm more confused than I was before. It's probably an annoyance for you, but how about you start back at the beginning. Why exactly do your people need this little planet? And what exactly are you doing here? Is this a game? I know you lot like playing games when you get bored."

Ramble sighed. "It is true. My elders do become…bored. And if you must have the start, it is in that." He nodded to himself, closing his eyes for a moment.

"It was long ago, and my elders had found little to amuse them. There was no challenge to be had, no interest in existence. My elders left their kinsmen in search of…diversion. Interest. They observed, and wondered at how it would be to live tied to a limited range of being as other creatures did. So my elders decided to…experiment. To try. They chose a planet with a most simple kind of life, to take the joy of watching it change. They formed Home; a place that lies upon this like a second skin, tied tight to it, so that they could observe and yet keep some comfort. And then…" Ramble stared at his hands, shrugged.

"Then my elders became."

"Became what, exactly?" the Doctor asked. Ramble thought this over.

"They gave themselves form suitable to this existence. They surrendered-no-they gave away some of their ability in order to make themselves mesh with this world. They became a part of the lower planes. In doing so, they forgot much. Then they settled in Home. The laws of that place are…not as binding as those here. Energy is available, and the shape of things is less…solid. Less entrapping. So my people were. The Elders formed gateways that gave free access to the ephemeral lands. In time they watched men come. In time they wished to experience rearing young as men did, and so I and others like me were created. Each of us has…talents, abilities. And at times we are…but that is not important. Now there is…division. Strife. Trouble. There are those among my elders who grow tired of this experiment and wish to return to their former being. There are those among my kin who would join them. They have been stating this for some time, since…"

An image appeared of a man striding to the prow of a wooden ship that rode on grey waves. The Doctor nodded.

"Since Strongbow got to Ireland. Right. That's a hell of a family argument, five hundred years, give or take, if you stuck to linear time at all."

Ramble held his hand out in a 'what do expect?' gesture.

"It is as it is. But some among us are no longer content to discuss. They wish to break loose, to regain their power. But they have forgotten the way it is done. It would require all the elders working as one to do such a thing. To force the agreement, they have been…blocking paths. Closing the roads between Home and the ephemeral lands. Draining us."

"Draining you how?" Jenny asked. She eyed the man warily. He turned to her, then looked away.

"They are…" he sighed, pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves in an almost human gesture.

"We take energy from the ephemeral lands. Your…dreams. Hopes. Creations. Ideas. Thoughts. The dreams of a people have power. We draw it. There is form in those thoughts that we use. Some peoples among men are more…creative than others. The people of this island are among them. Their dreams, their hopes, their stories are strong. But at this place…" he sighed, searching for words.

"There are no dreams in this place. There is only hunger. Pain. Fear. The men here do not dream."

"You mean in this time?"

Ramble nodded. "This place is…it is like a dark spot in the fabric of the island. And the others use it to their…advantage. They make the loss, the dream-less, the dark spread in the minds of men, out from this point. Without the energy, we cannot come here. We are not sustained. We are in pain. They say 'see what is happening? See how this feels? If we were as we should be we would never feel this again. If we were as we should be we could draw energy from anything.' There are other bright places for us, on this planet and others. But if we give them this island and find another place, they will only do the same there. We cannot let them have this victory." For the first time, a flicker of genuine emotion shone in his eyes."This is as much home for some of us as Home itself. We will not give it up."

He sat back in his chair, looking at the Time Lords. "That is my tale. Will you help me?"

"That depends." the Doctor said, "If your people get back here, will they repair the damage their counterparts did? Will they help mankind, or at least leave it alone?"

"We will go on as we always have." Ramble said. "It is we they tell their stories of. We have always helped men. It is we who give them good crops when they call us, healthy children, healing. They call on us as…friends. Hill folk, they call, and we answer. They give us dreams. We give them hopes. But we must have a road." he said, looking the Doctor in the eye. "Will you help?"

The Doctor sat back, crossing his arms. "Don't see how we couldn't." he said, his face blank.

….

Ramble had said that he needed a place that many people had invested emotion in. So now the Doctor and his daughter were flicking through the databanks, trying to find anything that might be relevant.

"Wish he'd drop the act and give us some technical details." Jenny muttered, flipping through the images. "Listening to him is like talking to a Tolkien character."

"No need to be judgmental." the Doctor chided lightly, pushing his glasses up his nose with a forefinger. "Besides, I don't think that's an act. His native language depends on a degree of telepathic interaction that's astounding, and waaay too intimate for my comfort level, not to mention yours. But he's struggling, communicating without it. I'd bet that he's pretty much unable to describe a lot of things. He's doing his best, from the look of it."

"Maybe." Jenny said. She flipped through several images, then turned to face her father, crossing her arms over her chest. "But what about some of that other stuff?"

"Which stuff?" the Doctor asked, peering at an image of Newgrange. So that was where they'd been.

"He talks about getting energy from emotions. But there isn't energy in an emotion. It's a series of neurochemical reactions in a section of the brain."

"Really." the Doctor said, turning to his daughter. He looked at her over the top of his glasses. "Funny, b'cause as I remember you couldn't stay anywhere near that Ketsa when it got its dander up. It bounced you off a wall."

"Well, yeah." Jenny said carefully.

"And there are creatures that feed on fear, right?"

"I guess."

"So you see that, and then you have trouble believing him?"

"Well yes. There's a reason for that stuff. It's the chemicals produced by fear that some parasites feed on, and a Ketsa's anger sets off the psychokinetic section of his, her or its mind, and…"

"There's a reason for everything." the Doctor said knowingly, "You just don't always know it. Remember that." He glanced at the images, talking as he did. "Every species has bio-electrical energy of some sort, telekinetic or psychokinetic or something. It's not much by itself, but get enough people believing the same thing, and you've got power. Besides, it's not just energy that the Eternals need. It's ideas. Eternals are powerful. They're as close to gods as you're ever going to get. But they've been at the top of the food chain for so long that they've forgotten how to innovate. They can't create. They can't get an idea for themselves. That's what they need ephemerals—us-what they need us and the rest of the universe for. The stronger someone thinks of something, the clearer they see it, and the more real it looks—the more real it is- when they're done taking the idea and copying it. Without us, they haven't got form or much to form their creations with." He shrugged. "I'd think you'd be pretty miserable with an existence like that, but there you go."

"Okay." Jenny said, nodding slowly, "But the stuff about roads…that's bollocks. He's talking about some kind of parasite universe, but you don't have to walk along a road to get through from a parasite universe to its parent. You can either get through, or you can't."

"I 'spect it's more like a pocket universe, from the sound of it." the Doctor said, his eyes focused on the flickering images on the screen. "And I 'spect you're not thinking it through. He's using an allegory that will translate all right. If I'm right, the opposite side on their little civil war just sealed their universe, and our friend had to go along the interface between his universe and this one to find a spot weak enough for him to break through. Surprised he didn't end up in Cardiff or Bermuda. And…" he paused, and studied the screen. "Hello…this might just do."

…..

She had no idea how she'd ended up keeping an eye on him. The Walker sat with teacup in hand, while the Eternal sat across from her, his eyes half closed. He looked up, and glanced around the room. He turned his green eyes on her inquiringly for a moment. They weren't quite green, she noticed. The centers of his eyes, around the pupils, were amber, with thick circles of green ringing the gold. It was easier to look at his eyes than to deal with his mind. It was a wild, churning swirl of complex patterns. Time was there, but it there was so much more. Too much. If she had her choice, she'd never make contact with such a mind again.

"This place is...it is…in its own place." Ramble said, glancing from the ceiling to the walls. "What place did you make it from?"

"The interiors of our ships exist in a spatial pocket of the ninth plane." the Walker replied.

"Ah." he said, looking at the ceiling as if reading it. Then he looked at her, and smiled. "Fine work. Simple, but fine."

"Thank you, I suppose." the Walker said coolly. The man glanced at her, his brow creasing for a moment. "I am sorry. You are…annoyed. That was not my intent."

The Walker sighed, and calmed her mind. "No, I'm simply preoccupied. I'm sure you'll be as happy when this is all over as we will be."

He nodded. "It will be good to see my kinsmen strong again. This has been too much a trial for us. Even the Lady has been strained of late."

"The Lady?"

"Our…highest elder. Queen? No. Advisor…she is…" he sighed, and waved one hand. "She is the Lady. She cares for my kindred."

"Oh. Then she'll be very pleased, I'm sure."

Ramble nodded, and closed his eyes.

Eternals. She had learned a few lessons about Eternals in her Secondary years. They were the greatest beings in the galaxy, but they were great the way that the Medusa Cascade or Mount Cadon was great. It was there and awesome, but it affected very little most of the time. They occasionally-very occasionally-came into the normal world of existence. But they belonged to the world of books. They didn't sit in your grandfather's kitchen enjoying the taste of tea and asking questions on quantum mechanics rather awkwardly. At least, not according to what they had said the schoolrooms.

Of course, he might not be quite an Eternal. From the description he'd given, he was something like a demigod. Like a handsome Celtic Peruses. Or perhaps one of the Hebridean heroes, she mused. Such as Chuchlainn.

"I am thinner than Chuchlainn was." Ramble said calmly, his eyes closed. "And taller. That man was built like a bull."

The Walker blinked. He'd heard all that. Wonderful.

"I didn't say that out loud."

Ramble opened his green-flamed eyes. "You did not?"

"No."

"Oh." the man stared at her, his head canting to the side, then looked away.

There was a knock on the kitchen doorway. The Doctor poked his head in. "Um…right, think we've found what you need." he said.

…..

The pool didn't look like much. Jenny studied it carefully, one eye out for possible threats. The pool was wide and shallow, enclosed in a low stone wall. A few sets of wide, low stone stairs led down into the water. Nearest to where she stood, a low arch of stones rose over the spring that fed the pool through two stone tubes, half-submerged. Grass grew between the chinks in the stones

"It's called Saint Brigid's Well." the Doctor said behind her. "Long history of belief here. This do?"

Ramble looked around, then nodded slowly. "This place... many men have put hopes into this place. It will serve."

The Eternal began to walk slowly around the perimeter of the water, looking from the earth, to the trees, to the sky, to the water. He paused, then turned around, his head tilting. After a moment, he strode to the steps leading down into the water. He stepped down into the pool, bending to run his fingers through the water. He smiled slightly.

Ramble's eyes closed, his face losing expression. Time seemed to twist around him, losing some of its usual cohesion. The air grew thick and heavy, and Jenny instinctively drew a deep breath, trying to get enough air. The sound of birdsong and wind faded into a tight silence.

There was a sense that the world was stretching. The ground seemed to flex, making Jenny sway on her feet, working to keep her balance. Her skin prickled. She didn't like this. She really didn't like this. The last time she'd felt anything like this timespace had been unraveling at the seams. How could one man have power like that?

There were words being said. Or not said. She could barely hear them, and her ears strained for that sound in the silence.

In the water, the man's hands flew up. There was a flare of light and heat. And then there was only Ramble, breathing hard, standing in water that steamed slightly. A tall woman stood in front of him, the hem of her dress floating on the water. She smiled, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Ramble." The woman said, her voice low and soft. "You did well."

"My Lady." Ramble bowed. At least, Jenny had thought he was bowing. But the bow went on and on, and Ramble fell forward, collapsing in the water.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hey everyone, sorry about the wait. I had 3 horrible summer classes to take. Now, on with the story!**

6

Ramble dripped water on the bathroom tiles. He seemed none the worse for wear, though it had taken him ten minutes to wake up after the woman who he'd shown such reverence had returned them to the top of the hill where their ships sat. Then the Lady had turned her smile on the Doctor. The Walker had the image of her grandfather's face imprinted in her mind; a mixture of surprise, chagrin and annoyance. He was still outside, presumably speaking with the woman. The Walker glanced at the man as she grabbed a towel out of the nearest bathroom her TARDIS had provided and handed it to him.

"Here. Dry yourself off, and you'd best get out of those wet things. My ship can find a few garments for you if you like. You can change in here." she said, stepping out of the bathroom before turning back to face her visitor. He stood still, watching her, his head canting to the side slightly. He looked down at the towel, stared at it with a remote expression, then looked back up at her inquiringly. "Why?" he asked.

The Walker blinked."Why what?"

"Why should I remove my clothes?"

"Because you're sopping wet," the Walker said, "and very soon you'll be chilled. Water evaporation pulls heat away from the body, you see. You'll be more comfortable if you get out of them."

He inclined his head slightly, as if considering her words. "Ah. I see" He glanced down-and his clothes were gone. He stood there, naked. Stark naked. His amber-green eyes met hers calmly.

The Walker blinked. "I suppose I did say get out of them, didn't I. I meant to say that you should put on other garments."

"Why?"

She was not going to look any lower than his eyes.

"Because you'll be cold without them." A level reply. Good work.

He cocked his head, blinking as if this was a novel concept. "Yes. I suppose I may be. Cold." He glanced down absently, and his clothes returned clean and fresh. "My thanks."

"Don't mention it." she turned away. Unfortunate that she was so neat, or she could pretend to be straightening something.

"Well…if you don't need the restroom, we might as well go and sit down." she said, turning away to walk down the hall. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better."

"Good."

The silence lay down in the hallway, bearing down like high gravity.

"I had not expected such power to be needed." Ramble murmured. The Walker could feel his eyes on her back.

"I am…I required a small amount of power from your ship to succeed, once more. I had too little of my own."

"I know." the Walker said. The ship had told her that another six percent of its power supply had gone.

"Ah. Of course." he said. She was surprised at the tone of his voice. It sounded almost apologetic. "I will return it as soon as I may."

"Don't concern yourself. If you can stop using her as a power supply, then she'll soon be able to recoup her energy, as will Grandfather's ship."

There was a small laugh behind her. "I wish I were as strong. I do not recover energy with such ease."

The Walker paused, her mind lining up the many questions on her mind in order of relevance."Which is why you fainted, am I right?"

Ramble met her eyes with a sense of agreement.

"If you have less energy than your elders, why did they ask you to come here?"

"Because…they cannot…I…" the man gave a slight, irritated shrug. "I am weak, and half-blooded, but I can find roads. They are not able. They forget. I remember. It is my…ability. My…" he said a word that didn't translate. But with it came a series of concepts that flashed through her mind; being talented with finding, being proud of a skill, the innate sense of knowing tempered by training.

The Walker nodded. "I see."

The silence descended again. Ramble's behavior reminded the Walker of the way Beta Tau, a shy boy in her Primary class, had acted when he was trying to make friends in their first week of school.

The hallway wound past the kitchen, which had moved from its usual place down the second hall. Ramble paused. "I think I may be in need of energy. Food. Might you have something?"

The Walker turned. She couldn't help but smile at the odd phrasing. "I'm sure I can find something to eat. Follow me."

She dug out two sets of the rice balls that she'd fallen in love with in sixty-first century Japan, cracked the vial on the lid of the packages, releasing a heated steam that cooked the food instantly, and set the packages on the table.

Ramble studied the food, then took one of the rice balls. He took a thoughtful bite, and brightened.

"I see now what they meant." he said between bites. "He was right. There is so much to learn here."

"Who?" the Walker asked. She'd given up trying to follow his conversation in favor of asking where he was in it. It seemed to be a workable system. The Eternal glanced at her inquiringly. "If you opened your mind, we could speak with more ease."

"It's not something I'd be very comfortable with, I'm afraid." the Walker replied. Her words sounded stiff and formal. Ramble shrugged it off. "It is a kinsman. He has said this world is worthy of praise, and he spoke well. There is so much…difference, in this world. In the minds and in the food. You are unlike men, and foods are unalike. Variety. Taste. Flavor. So much I can learn. It's…wonderful." He bit into another rice ball with enthusiasm.

Further down the hall, a door slammed. The sound of boots clattered down the hall.

"He's gone." Jenny said, skidding into the room. The Walker looked up in alarm.

"What?"

"Father. He's gone. That woman took him off somewhere." She turned, glaring at Ramble. "Where is he?"

Ramble blinked back up at her. "He is with the Lady."

"Yeah, I get that, but I want a geographic point. Coordinates. Where are they?"

"Meeting. They are well. You need not worry."

"I won't worry if you take me to him." Jenny said, her voice light and dangerous. Ramble glanced up at him, and cocked his head. "You are angry. And afraid. There is no need for such things. He is safe with the Lady. She may require his aid."

"First off, stay out of my head." Jenny said slowly, "And second off—"

"And secondly," the Walker interrupted, " we'll need to go out on the hill and do our best to repair the damage that was done by Ramble's arrival outdoors. We'll have to find some way to explain this to the townsfolk."

Jenny shot the older girl a glare. _What the hell are you trying to do? We've got to get to Father, and I'm not about to—_

_We're not about to start a fight with this man. We don't want to annoy him unnecessarily. Grandfather can take care of himself quite well. In the mean time, do calm down and be reasonable._

_I am being reasonable._ Jenny returned irritably, glaring at the Eternal who looked politely back. _ I haven't hit him._

_You are overreacting. Give Grandfather time to find out what is happening here. He'll find his way back here when he wants to. There are very few things that can stop him if he's feeling determined and you know it. It's almost proverbial. If he takes too long, then we'll force the point, but not before hand. Now calm down._

Jenny let out a long breath. Then she nodded sharply. "Fine. I'll be outside on the hill." With a last prickly look at the Eternal, Jenny turned on her heel and marched out. Ramble watched her go curiously.

"She is like fire." he said softly. "Always bright." Then he returned his attention to the rice ball in his hand. Before he'd finished the food, he paused, glancing up as if he'd heard a sound.

"Is something wrong?" the Walker asked politely.

"My kinsmen." he said, half listening. "They are coming."

…

Another pair of Eternals appeared in the dappled shade. The Doctor watched them, leaning against the wide bole of the oak tree. One looked essentially human, except for pure black eyes. The other looked like a deer, if a deer had been taken, stretched, taught to walk on two legs and given long slender hands on its forefeet. The Doctor rolled his eyes. If they were going to form constructs, you'd think they'd use something sensible.

He was being unreasonable and cranky, and he knew it. It came of being treated like a child who had better just wait till he was called. And being dragged all over the place without so much as a word of consent from him. It was a pretty rare thing for the Doctor to be treated like this, and he didn't think much of it. The only comfort he had was that he wasn't the only one who seemed confused. Some of the Eternals seemed positively bewildered. The Lady had moved the little gathering to a shady place beneath the branches of a wide, spreading oak universe-knew-where after five of her kind had showed up, and the rest seemed to figure out where she was, but not much else. A few were staring at everything with a look that usually implied the use of some form of mind-altering substance. Others just seemed cheerfully muddled; they milled about, occasionally walking through the tree.

The Doctor sighed. He hated waiting.

He had been drawing travel and trajectory diagrams in the dirt with a twig for some time before he was approached by an Eternal. This one had adopted a shape that was a fox-human hybrid, and a fairly pretty one.

"Come." it said, "the Lady calls you."

Deeper into the shade, the Lady was sitting in the grass, studying an oak leaf that almost matched her dress. Around her, a group of Eternals were staring at each other, shaking their heads and gesticulating. A telepathic conversation was obviously going, but based on his experience with Ramble he wasn't about to open his mind far enough to listen. He wasn't in the mood to try to sort through their kind of whirlwind discussion.

"Words, my own. Use words." the Lady said softly. The group looked at her. A sharp-faced man with skin the color of walnuts sighed. A bird-headed creature cocked its head, and two others glanced at each other with annoyance.

She looked up, and smiled warmly. "Doctor. Our rambler has told us about you.I am the lady Rhiannion."

"Thought you were called the Lady?" the Doctor asked in a dry tone. The woman smiled.

"It is respect. My spoken name is Rhiannon." She smiled at the circle, then held out a hand to offer the Doctor a seat. The other Eternals watched him carefully as he sat.

"You've already done us a great service by aiding our Ramble." the Lady said lightly. Something about her expression hinted at humor just under the surface, hiding in her deep green eyes.

"Oh, wasn't much really." the Doctor said, matching her tone. "By the way, your verbal communication is really quite good."

"I thank you. I have been here often. I am afraid I have been too lax with the younger of us." She said, looking over the others in the circle. "I allow them to stay too much in that between state we have created. It defeats the purpose of this experiment to fail in truly living in this plane." She smiled slightly, sadly. She wasn't bad in the facial expressions either. She looked nearly human. "I've called you here because I fear I shall need to ask more aid of you. We need an impartial emissary. Not a man, for a man would have no respect among us. And yet not one of m own."

"And an emissary would be needed because…" the Doctor let the sentence peter out, cocking an eyebrow.

The lady Rhiannion sighed. "For discussion. A…disagreement has grown up between us, and has reached such a heat that we cannot now speak civilly. Ramble has told you some of it."

"The bare bones, yes. If I got it straight, some of you want to return to your usual form of existence and some don't?"

"Precisely. Some wish to end this experiment with ephemeral existence. And I have agreed to do so, over time. But over time is not agreeable to some of us. They demand…speed. Swift action. And this I cannot aceed to."

"Right. You're still comfortable here?"

"I am. And I have no wish to harm this world that has hosted us in our leaving." She plucked an acorn, running it between her fingers. "If we were to leave suddenly it would be…devastating. We would need to take back all the energy invested in our…I believe the term is pocket universe. And that universe is bound into this one tightly."

"How tightly, exactly?" the Doctor asked.

"Do not question the Lady." the bird-headed creature said. The Lady waved a hand."Enough, M'lor."

She turned back to the Doctor. "Tightly. I have told the other part of you the rest. She can keep it best."

"Thanks, then." the Doctor said. "But you know that you're already starting to do damage. Had you noticed just how tightly the timelines are strung around here? I've already seen one irregularity this morning, and anything that goes wrong here will have repercussions."

Most of the circle roused this time. "Do not-" the bird headed man began. The Lady held up a hand, quelling them. When she looked back, some of the humor had faded from her face, leaving her looking somewhat sad. "And you do not think that we see this same, time weaver? What we harm we shall mend. What we wound we always heal. Time is not as difficult as you might see it to weave and unweave. This planet has hosted me, and I would not willingly do its evolution harm."

"Thank you, then." he said. The Lady held his eyes, and smiled. "We will call the parlay in a day. I will call you at that time." She stood.

"One more thing." The Doctor said, "Do you know if any of your relatives have a habit of drinking energy? From living things?"

The Lady stilled. "Why?"

"I found a dead man this morning. His body was drained of chemical energy."

The Lady nodded slowly."That would be my kin. At times energy is needed after traversing the lands, and some…take it where they can. It is…unfortunate. I will mention it in the parlay."

Then the Lady turned away.

…..

Jenny's head jerked up as the TARDIS door opened.

"Father! You okay?"

"I'm fine." The Doctor said quickly, striding in with barely a glance. "And I might just know what's going on." Moving to the main monitor, he began to tap at the keys. He shook his head, then closed his eyes. Echoes of questions and answers between the Time Lord and his ship ran through his daughter's head. The screen lit up with information.

"There we go." the Doctor murmured. He perused the information. Then he let out a long, low whistle.

"Got to hand it to them. They really know how to muck things up." he motioned to his daughter.

"Look at this. They've worked it right into the planet's electromagnetic field. And the timelines too. The entire planetary timeline."

Jenny stepped to the monitor, watching an image of the planet rotate. In the multi-spectrum image of the planet the globe was covered with a second skin.

"The pocket universe?"  
"Yup. And look how it's bound into the planetary systems." the Doctor said, almost enthusiastic. Then his forehead creased. "See what she means now."

"That woman?"

"She's called the Lady. Yes." the Doctor reached fingers through his dark hair, grabbing at a handful distractedly. "Gah. And just look what they've done to the timelines. These time paradoxes will have given me a headache pretty soon. What a bloody mess. And yet they keep it working. That's just not fair."

"And what's up with her?"  
"With her people, mostly." the Doctor replied. "And with this. How much energy do you think is bound up in those bonds anchoring the pocket?"

Jenny leaned forward, studying. "A sextisol, I guess." she said, referring to the amount of power contained in six g-type stars.

"Septisol, actually. Lots of power, right?"  
"Yeah."

"And what would happen if that power was taken out of this system all at once?"

Jenny's eyes widened. "You mean, break all these bonds? At once?"

"Yup."

"It would rip a hole in the electromagnetic field. A gigantic hole. Probably in the ozone layer too. And the timelines would be shot all to hell."

"Pretty much," the Doctor said, "the planet would be ripped to bits. And that's what'd happen if these Eternals pulled their energies out. Kaboom."

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. "Nasty."

The Doctor sighed. "Yes. Nasty." He glanced at his daughter. "And that's what happens, if we can't talk them out of it." He laughed slightly. "Hope I remember my diplomacy."

….

The meeting was set for a hill over a deep pool. Ramble brought them to the site, and they stood waiting as the Eternals gathered.

The Lady was standing close to them, facing the west, her firey hair ruffled in the breeze.

And then there was another woman standing, facing her. Her hair was the color of honey, outlining a triangular face and eyes so light a green that they were nearly yellow. The Doctor thought she looked a little feline.

The Lady nodded slightly. "Cousin."

The other lady stared at her. "You come to speak to me, and you use this form of communication?"

"For the moment."

"For these?" the Eternal said, turning an impassive glance over the three Time Lords. "What are these?"

"Arbittrators. You will not speak with me easily, and so I ask him" she pointed to the Doctor, "to speak between us."

"Them?" the catlike woman snorted. "Epheremals?"

"Look closer." the Lady said calmly. The woman waved a hand.

"Let it be as you wish, then. I have not changed in my…needs, my thoughts on the thing."

"And how could you still hold that course, after all that I have said?" the Lady said. She seemed about to say more, but turned to the Doctor. "We shall address ourselves to our people. Each of us shall describe our thoughts on the subject in words and other ways. You will see that neither of us over speaks the other. You will see that each of us takes our time and our turns. You will be impartial."

The Doctor nodded. He was rather poor at being impartial, but this probably wasn't the time to voice it.

The Lady nodded. Turning outward, she spoke. "Listen, A Danu. Listen, Kindred. This place has been good to us. There is no need for us to harm it in our leaving. Let us go slowly over the centuries. Let us go gently."

"But why should it matter, what happens here?" the other woman said, her voice deep and sweet as a bell. "It matters not. A speck in the stars. A few ephemerals. What of it?"

"I have lived among these ephemerals." the Lady rejoined. "They are small, and their lives short. But their stretch is long throughout the stars. We cannot undo all that they will one day do."

"All ephemeral things. Easily written out of existence. It would not harm the universe to reweave so that they had never been, so there is little import to any of them. We are A Danu. Why concern ourselves with such things?" she turned to the Lady. "Can you not remember what you once were?" she said earnestly, "The strength of it? The glory of it? The power?"

"Can you not remember?" the Lady rejoined. "The boredom? The meaningless drifting? No life, no change, no challenge, no difference. All the power in us, and no use for it. Here, we have sensation, experience, change, difference. Here we experience Life. We learn, we grow. I would rather that than every measure of my self at my finger tips."

"That is not your right to choose." the woman said sharply, the catlike look sharper in her face. "If we all choose to be free of this place, you have no right to hold us back. To be free, to shuck this puny planet and become what we ought to be."

"But we do not all so choose." the Lady said softly. "Many of us prefer this place. Its changing, its life and vitality. There are great dreams and hopes here. There is lush growth. And we wish to enjoy our place here, unimpeded. We will not work in breaking away."

For a moment the other woman's face held a wholly alien expression, empty of all emotion."Then there must be a manner of deciding." she said, facing the people again. "All here, or all free? Half trapped? How do we decide?"

There was a murmur, and the Doctor glanced at his family, tapping his forehead and then chopping his hand down in a private signal to shield their minds. He could feel the maelstrom swirling around them even behind the strongest shields he could raise around his mind. He put a hand on Jenny's shoulder, doing his best to shield her as well.

"Seems to me they should vote. Something to decide once and for all." he said quietly. Then he noted the sharp gaze of the Lady's counterpart.

"Something to decide? Once and for all?" She paused for a moment, then laughed. "Very well. A challenge. A threefold challenge. The time child can judge for us. You choose the first."

The Lady nodded. "The first challenge shall be a work of calling. Gather what men you may, and I shall gather those who belong to my heart. Who hath the greatest number has the first."

"Granted. Then the second shall be the work of arms. The men shall fight, and we shall see. That shall give the second."

"Now hold on!" The Doctor said sharply, "You can't bring a bunch of men in and make them fight to the death! These aren't toy soldiers you're talking about."

"And why not?" a voice from the crowd said. "Their little kings do the same."

"Exactly." Said the tall, blonde woman. "We give them the honor to fight for the future they choose. Is that not just?"

"Not if you trick them into fighting for you." the Doctor said sternly. The Eternal shook her head. "Silly little man. We speak to them. It is their choice whether they follow us to battle or no."

She turned to the Lady with a mocking smile. "It will be an interesting… experience, war. And you are the one who so encourages us to _experience_. You agree?"

The Lady's face was set when she replied, "I do."

"But you can't just-" the Doctor began hotly.

"It is not your place to choose the method of contest." The woman said sharply, "Only to judge. Two contests decided upon."

"And the third," said the Lady, "Shall be a work of seeking. You may make a nexus, the first step in the process you wish to enact. We shall find it and destroy it if we can, in three days. That is the third."

The Doctor stepped forward. "Right. If this is going to be a contest, then there are going to be rules. If I'm the judge, then it _is_ my place to make the rules."

Both Eternals turned to look at him. "Rules, little man?" the catlike woman smiled.

"Yes, rules." the Doctor replied. Holding up his fingers, he ticked them off. "First off, any man you ask to fight your little war has to be asked honestly. No tricking his thought processes or his senses. No lying to him, no forcing him." he met both women's eyes."Swear to this, by your names."

"By my name." the Lady said after a moment.

After a long look at her counterpart, the other woman repeated the words.

At least he knew that oath as the one they'd keep. No Eternal would break an oath on their name, which would require them to give their true name to the one they'd made their oath to. It was too precious to them.

"Secondly, this fight involves just this island. I don't want anyone mucking up the whole planet. Seems like a fair gameboard. Right?"

Slowly, both women nodded.

"And thirdly, you have to swear that what you do here harms nothing. This fight has to happen somewhere uninhabited, somewhere where their fighting won't harm any timelines. And any timelines that are broken or rearranged get rerouted to keep the essential timeline chugging along. You return your fighters, you don't interrupt planetary evolution. Got it?"

"Yet our removal might…interrupt it." The honey-haired woman said, smiling. The Doctor met her eyes.

"If you win we'll come to that. But first you swear. Right?"

"By my name." said the Lady.

"By my name." said the other Eternal, slowly.

"Fine." the Doctor said. This was probably a very bad course of action. But at least this way, he could try to outsmart them. And if he couldn't…

Well, what else could he do. He had no authority here. And there was no way he could point to an authority, any authority, over Eternals. There _was_ no authority over them.

But there were the rules of the game. And Eternals loved to play games.

"Then we begin." the Lady said. Her cousin nodded mockingly, and vanished.

_Of course_, he thought guardedly, _they also love to cheat._


	7. Chapter 7

7

"Well, that was interesting." The Walker said.

"Yes, and I wasted time polishing up my diplomatic skills. Bloody useless there." The Doctor growled. He moved to the console, tapping the main keyboard.

"So," Jenny said, dropping into the console chair, "three challenges, right?"

"Yup. Get an army, win a battle, find a hidden nexus and put it out of commission. Three challenges to save the planet. They get their chance to play soldiers, and maybe they don't rip the planet apart. Well," he said brightly, "I've been in worse spots. Now all we have to do is…"

He turned at a small alarm trill from the console. He glanced at the main monitor, which displayed external camera view. Outside, a young man was calling.

"Hello? Sir?"

The Doctor sighed. "Back in a tick."

Stepping down the ramp, he opened the door, then bent to match the outlines of the simulated tent that was their camouflage. Poking his head out, he smiled up at the thin young man in his black suit. "Oh. Hello!"

The young man cleared his throat. "Sir, Lord Winfrey invites you to enjoy his hospitality." Bending over, he held out a card. The Doctor took it, glanced over it and smiled up again.

"Yes, well, my thanks to his lordship, but, you know, awfully busy and all that. Lots of archeology to do. Give him my regards." He moved to pop back into the simulated tent, when the sound of a throat being cleared stopped him.

"The Lord wished to extend you an invitation to dinner tomorrow night. Would you be amenable?"

The Doctor glanced up. "Ah…fraid not."

"Then a ball for you and your daughters? The Lord will be hosting a ball at his home next Thursday. May I convey your interest to his lordship?"

"Nope." The Doctor said shortly. "Now, working on something, good day." And he pulled back under the TARDIS camouflage.

"What was that?" Jenny asked as he pushed through the door.

"Oh, lord of the manor come to invite his new English neighbors to dinner. Don't think he'll be back."

"Oh. 'Kay."

"Now, back to business. If I'm right…yep, she did it again. All the details dumped into the TARDIS computer. So…" he ran his eyes over the data. Jenny matched pace with him, reading over his shoulder.

"She's keeping her promise so far."

"Yes." Her father replied absently, "setting the battle ground right inside their pocket universe…and setting up spatial interface wormholes all over this island to get people there…s'pose they don't want to waste their time moving their troops." He snorted derisively.

"Troops. Most advanced species in the universe and what do they want to do? Play soldiers. Play games with people's lives." he ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. "They're going to put on a war just to settle an argument. To amuse themselves, more than anything. Like kids in nursery school." he sighed.

There was a small sound, and the Doctor turned."What are you doing here?" he snapped.

Ramble smiled slightly."The Lady sent me to return. We begin our search today."

"I'd assumed as much. And you're not out recruiting?"

"It is my place to form the gates between this world and Home. We place a gate here for your use. I had wished to show it to you."

"Thanks, but I'm not so blind that I can't see a basic spatial interface. Now do push off."

Ramble cocked his head, and then shook it. "No. I shall stay."

The Doctor glared at him."Fine. Then stay out of the way."

By the end of the hour they'd gotten through the information the TARDIS had been given.

"So." the Doctor said, dropping into the console chair beside Jenny, "Three days to gather troops, three days to fight it out, and three days to find this nexus and put it out of commission.

"Three days is pretty insufficient time to raise, train and equip an army." Jenny said dubiously.

"I have a feeling they'll be finding people who are already equipped." the Doctor replied. "I specified this island, but that could include any segment of this island's timespan. And that's if they stick to the rules, which is a big if."

"We keep our word." Ramble said mildly.

"I'm sure." the Doctor replied without looking at him. "There are always battalions getting lost during wars." he said. "Or else…"

The proximity alarm trilled once again.

"Oh, now what?" the Doctor growled. He tapped the buttons to bring up the external view. Outside, Inspector Burnstied was calling the Doctor's name.

The Doctor glanced at his daughter, rolling his eyes, before striding out to meet the man."Hello Inspector." he said, standing.

"Doctor," the sandy-haired man said, "Glad you're here. We're in need of a medical man. I apologize for the imposition, normally this would be the work of the county inquest, but since the inquest has been somewhat overwhelmed of late and you happen to be here, perhaps you could lend a hand."

"Oh? Lend a hand with what?"

"Signing the death certificates. There's been murder done."

…

The bodies had been covered in sheets. The Doctor lifted it, and studied the corpses by the light of the inspector's lantern.

"Found these lads late in the afternoon." the inspector said, "From what I have been given to understand, they were set upon by their comrades. Seems some Army fellows have been in town recruiting, though why they'd want these Irish sots in the army I don't know. From what I know eighteen other men have left the village. I'm guessing there was an argument, and the others set on them. Did them quite thoroughly, from the looks of it."

The Doctor glanced up scornfully. "And where would a bunch of starving country boys get six-inch long knives?"

The inspector shrugged. "Farm tools are often quite sharp."

The Doctor shook his head, and turned his eyes back to the corpses. Both of them had slit throats, and one man was slit open down the chest as well.

"Well, cause of death is obvious, isn't it? But I think you've got the wrong culprit. Nobody around here would slit somebody open during a scuffle. Come to think of it, do you know anybody strong enough to do it? Split the breast bone and everything?"

"If you're strong enough to slaughter a cow you're strong enough to kill a man." the inspector said calmly. "Now, if you'll just come along with me to the pub, we'll get this sorted out."

The people still in the pub seemed to shrink at the entrance of the inspector. "All right, all of you." he roared, "There's two men murdered and eighteen gone. What do you know of it?"

Silence.

"I know that one of you's seen something. Come on. Out with it!" When no one spoke, he began to stride through the crowd, picking people at random to question. The Doctor frowned after him. _When the English are good, they're great. But when they're not…_

With an annoyed glower, he took a seat at the bar. Half an hour later, the inspector sat beside him.

"Well, that's that sorted."

"Oh?" the Doctor said blandly.

"Yes," Burnstied cleared his throat, looking smug. "Seems that the recruitment chaps were going around, and offered a bonus if all twenty men joined up at once. Should have known better, really. Well, the way I see it, the two men who refused recruitment robbed the others of their bonus, so they set upon them and killed them. Simple enough. Ah, girl, stout here. Bloody expensive at the moment too."

"Oh yes. It's simple." the Doctor muttered. Mentally he was kicking himself. Because he hadn't foreseen what the Eternals were capable of, those men had died.

"Well, we'll have them rounded up soon enough." The inspector was saying, "Just send a wire to the Army offices and they'll be arrested the moment they show up. They may have turned bandit, though. Just wanted you to be on your guard, with your young daughters here and all, if there are any men on the roads."

The Doctor nodded, resisting the perverse urge to tell the man that one of his 'young daughters' could take out six men in under five minutes and barely break a sweat.

A shock of fear made the Doctor glance up.

"If you please, sir." Mary said, setting down the stout glass, "Is William among the missing? William Ford?"

"Yes, girl." the inspector said dismissively, "He's one of the ones that scarpered. We'll have him in the end though."

"Oh sir," Mary said, coming around the bar, "You mustn't put his name to the list. William would never do such a thing as that. He's a good Christian lad, and-"

"And that's all I need to hear from you." Burnstied said sharply. "Go on. Be off with you."

"But sir-"

"Be off before you feel the back of my hand!"

Mary bowed her head, shot a quick, terrified glance at the Doctor, and hurried away.

"I'd like it," the Doctor said icily, "if you never spoke to a lady like that again in my presence."

"I'm sorry, sir." Burnstied said stiffly, "But you can't treat these Irish the way you would civilized people. You have to have a firm hand."

"You know, I've heard that from other people." The Doctor said, his voice harsher than he'd expected. "Mostly tyrants and bullies."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, sir." the thin man rose. "If you'll sign those death reports, I'll be on my way."

Brusquely, the Doctor scrawled down a signature.

"Thank you, sir. Good night sir."

The Doctor watched the man go. Leaving money on the bar, he too strode out.

"Ramble." He called, entering his ship. The man appeared directly in front of him."Yes?"

"I want to see where your soldiers are being taken. Now."

"Of course." The Eternal said. "I had wished to show you the gate."

The Doctor blinked. Ramble was dressed in a perfect nineteenth-century suit of green. "Nice suit. You've put a trigger mechanism on each wormhole, right?"

The Eternal nodded. "Follow."

Then they were standing on top of the hill. All four of them. Jenny, back in jeans and a t-shirt, glared at Ramble. "You could at least give us some warning before you do that."

Ramble blinked. "And yet, I was asked not to speak into your mind."

"You could make an exception for that." The Walker said. She was dressed in a frilly white thing with a corset, and after a millisecond the Doctor recognized 1840's chemise and drawers. By nineteenth century fashions, the Walker was half undressed. She must have been getting out of her nineteenth-century clothes when she'd been grabbed.  
"Since it could prove useful to know when one's about to move." The Walker finished. Jenny snorted, setting the tool she'd been holding down in the grass.

"Walker, do you want to run back inside and…" the Doctor began delicately. He was a little surprised at how embarrassed he was for her, since she was still wearing more fabric than she did on a regular basis.

"That would probably be wise." she said, looking down.

"Very well." Ramble said. And they were gone.

"Next time he does that, I swear I'll…" Jenny muttered to herself, raising a fist. The Doctor shook his head."There's no point in hitting him, Soldier. Besides," he added after a moment, "If anybody's going to hit him, it'll be me."

And then they were back, the Walker dressed in jeans and a black ribbed t-shirt that complemented her dark bob.

"Now we shall go." Ramble announced. Striding to the western side of the circle, he touched one stone, then a second and a third. There was a ripple in the air indicative of warped space. Then Ramble stepped forward, vanishing. With a shrug, the Doctor followed.

"Whoa."

At first glance, the place was the same bit of hill top they'd just left. But the stones here, when the Doctor glanced back, were carved with designs. And the road was gone.

Most disconcertingly, there were no timelines here. The pattern of constant cause and effect that was constantly changing, as basic a component of his vision as seeing in color, was gone.

"The timelines…" the Walker breathed.

"Seems we're the only ones who follow cause and effect around here." The Doctor replied.

"Weird." Jenny said softly.

Ramble didn't seem to notice their discomfort. He took a deep breath, and smiled, then turned to them.

_**Come. We must be going**_. The words in their minds were accompanied by a clear picture of a trail through the trees.

"Hey," Jenny whispered, as they walked, "That was almost clear telepathy."

"I 'spect being back in his native habitat helps him focus." The Doctor murmured back, "And I 'spect a lot of things will be different here. You noticed that the gravity's lighter?"

"A little, yeah. Light's weird too."

The Doctor nodded. Though the light was bright and warm, no sun showed in the sky. The light seemed to be diffuse, omnidirectional, as if every blade of grass was giving off its own luminosity. Though it wasn't disconcerting, it did leave the Doctor with a sense of being displaced. The colors were too bright, too vibrant.

For a moment, Ramble paused, glancing back up at the hill.

_**You should move yourselves from that place.**_

"Why?" the Doctor asked.

In response, Ramble looked at him. A wave of uneasiness tightened his gut, along with a vauge sense of frustration, of wanting to know and not being sure.

_**You asked me not to speak into your mind, but this I cannot put into words. That hill makes me feel these things.**_

"I'll bear that in mind." The Doctor said. Ramble nodded, and walked on.

Soon they were standing on a high, weather beaten hill overlooking a plain. Down below them, near the foot of the hill, a camp had been started.

"Well, you don't waste time, do you?" the Doctor said. "The Lady's here, I expect. I need to have a word."

Ramble nodded.

_**I will**_…" find her." He finished aloud. He gave the Walker a small smile. "I must remember to use words more often." When he smiled, the Walker thought, he was really rather charming. He was always attractive, but his face seemed more…real, when he smiled.

"Come. The Lady awaits." he said, and turned away.

Moving through the camp, the Time Lords studied the milling crowds. And there were crowds. The Doctor had been right; men and women from every time period were walking through the camp. Here a tenth-century man was showing someone from the thirty-first century how to throw a javelin. There soldiers from the seventy-sixth century Nationals were trying to set up a tent.

At the center of the camp, a pavilion that might have been made from gossamer was set up. Inside, the Lady stood over a table, clad in a dress so light a green that it came close to white.

"Doctor?"

"I need to talk with you and your counterpart for a moment. Something to do with the rules."

The Lady nodded. "Very well."

They were standing on another hill that ran like a backbone down the valley.

"You called?" the woman smiled at them.

"Our judge wishes to speak." the Lady said quietly.

"Yes." the Doctor said, stepping forward. "Now if I remember right, you swore that you would ask every man honestly when you recruited, no tricks and no force used. I just wanted to mention, the line 'join up or we kill you' counts as forcing people."

"And what do you mean?" said the feline woman, all innocence. The Doctor looked her in the eye. "Oh, I think you know. Now tell your men; if someone turns down the chance to join up, you let them go. You don't touch a hair on their heads. Or you forfeit one of the challenges. Get it?"

"But they die so easily." The woman said.

"Then you better as hell be careful." Jenny growled, unable to contain her anger any longer.

Slowly, the woman turned to her. "And who are you, child?"

Jenny met her gaze and held it. "Jenny."

"But what is your _name_?" the feral woman asked. There was a gasp. Jenny felt a compulsion coursing through her to tell the woman who she was. She wanted to know something. Everything. Jenny fought to raise her mental shields against the onslaught. Whatever this woman wanted, she wasn't going to get what she wanted. She held the gaze, her blue-black eyes burning.

"That's my name." she ground out. "Jenny"

"Enough of this." the Lady said, and the force battering at Jenny's mind was gone.

"Very well." the other woman said languidly. She smiled at Jenny.

"The name I use is Maeve, little_ Jenny_. And I shall be careful. Yes. Very wary indeed. As should you be."

With a laugh, the woman was gone.

"My Lady!" Ramble exclaimed, "She-"

"Peace, Ramble."

"But she asked for the child's _name_!"

"And she did not take it. Be comforted."

"I'm not a child." Jenny added. The Lady smiled at her with an expression that clearly said 'yes, you are.' Then the smile faded. She looked at her long, white hands. "And yet to try such a thing…she is a bold one. Always was. Sadly, impatient as well." then she straightened.

"You have made your point, Doctor. I take it, as do we all. Thanks to you for the reminder."

"Any time." the Doctor said.

And they were back at camp.

"Feel free to wander, and to see our preparation." the Lady said. Then she was gone.

"Would you like me to be a guide?" Ramble asked.

"At the moment, I think I'd rather get back to my TARDIS." the Doctor replied, "Does the same trigger mechanism work on this side?"

"It does. I must scout the field now. Would one of you wish to travel with me, and know the lay of the battle?"

Jenny started to speak up, but her father caught her eye and shook his head.

_Why not? I'd like to know the strategic situation._

_I don't think you'd better be around this lot too much. Your mental shielding isn't strong enough._

_I held off that woman._

_I did, actually. And it put me in a sweat, even with your help. Not a good idea._

"Walker, you want to go?" he said aloud, "We could use some reconnaissance. Take pictures if you would."

"Me?" the Walker said, startled.

"Yes, why not? Ramble, drop her back off at the TARDIS when you're done, why don't you."

"Of course." said Ramble, nodding. Then they were gone.

"She's going to bite your head off when she gets back." Jenny said as they walked. The Doctor shrugged carelessly.

Jenny watched men checking over their blast-pistols. The aiming method they used wasn't very accurate. She'd have to get down here again and give them a hand. In fact, first chance she got she wanted to come back here and check out their training routines. She'd be a little hampered without using timelines to double-check her trajectories, but she managed for four years without a problem.

The conversation on the hill wouldn't stop replaying itself in her head. It was unnerving that she'd felt that woman's attack even through her father's shielding. She was so bloody strong.

And she had wanted Jenny's name.

"Father?"

"Hmm?"

"Why's she so worried about my name? And why did everyone freak out about it?"

Instead of answering, the Doctor turned to her with an unreadable expression. "Tell me Jenny, what's special about Gallifreyan? About the language, I mean?"

Jenny cocked her head, puzzled. "It describes things accurately and concisely." She said slowly, "what it is, texture and makeup, not just a sound that symbolizes the thing like most languages do."

"Exactemente." the Doctor replied, "So what if somebody, oh, one of the people who helped to choose your genetic material, watched your Looming and looked down your timelines while you were being formed, say, somebody described a _person _in Gallifreyan?"

"If you did that," Jenny said distantly, "then that name would describe everything about you." She looked up, meeting her father's eyes. "It would say who you are. Right down at the genetic level."

"Correct again." the Doctor said, nodding encouragement.

"And that would be a huge tactical disadvantage." Jenny continued, her eyebrows rising. "If an opponent knew that they'd know all your strengths and weaknesses, your genes even."  
"Hence, the use of titles." the Doctor said.

"Like The Doctor!" Jenny said, looking up sharply to meet her father's eyes. "Or The Walker!"

"Yep. Rani, Dancer, Sunwatcher—good man, too bad you didn't know him—or the Master, even. Can't forget him, can I? Those sort of titles. Even the older names were actually titles. Vassilorin – "

"The Friend." Jenny translated.

"And Rassilon-"

"The Designer." Jenny said.

"Exactly. Still who we are, just not all of who we are. Only person that ought to know your name is yourself and a parent. Very occasionally somebody you love, but that's only after you've been together a century or so, if then. Now Eternals, their language is even more precise and more telepathy-based than ours, and that's saying something. If you describe somebody in their language, you describe everything they ever were and everything they'll ever be. In all dimensions. Essentially, your name is a schematic of you. Not something that you want many people knowing, that kind of detail. Leaves you far too vulnerable to being meddled with. And absolutely the height of rudeness trying to find somebody's name. Rather obnoxious of them really."

"Yeah." Jenny said. She stared out. "Father?"

"Hmm?"

"Do I have a name like that?"

The Doctor looked at her in surprise. "I suppose you could. I wasn't given the chance to go through the proper procedures when you were born, so I didn't exactly give you a proper _name_-name. I can if you want."

Jenny shrugged. "No thanks. I think I like not having such an obvious weakness." Then Jenny felt her father freeze beside her. He was staring, shock and the barest hint of anger in his eyes.

"What are _they_ doing here?"


	8. Chapter 8

8

The things were green, emaciated, and barely hominid. Taller than her father, they towered over the ranks of young men and women in armor that they escorted. Oddly, they all had gauzy vestigial wings on their backs, completely disproportionate to their bodies. The Doctor watched them pass, his eyes riveted on the humans.

"Chosen ones." he said, mostly to himself, "We got it wrong."

Jenny looked from the things to her father. "Hunh?" But her father was already striding forward. He started to speak with one of the young men, but one of the creatures leaned down to snarl at him with its ugly, pushed-in jaw.

"O-kay…backing off…" the Doctor said, both hands raised. The group marched away without another glance.

"What is it?" Jenny murmured.

"Something that, if I'm right, is pretty illuminating. And a little bit enraging too." he replied quietly."Wish I hadn't sent Ramble off. I need-"

"You wished to ask a question?" the mild voice said beside him. Jenny jumped, and cursed under her breath.

"Yep." The Doctor said shortly, "I want to know exactly what _they_ are."

"Them?" Ramble said, glancing at the retreating greenish backs. "They are…" he said a word, and behind it came a series of concepts; tools, beasts of burden, things to do work that was dull. Things made to do what they were told. "They do our bidding. They are given a task, and they carry it out. They have all the power in us, but little of the wit." He glanced over the fading group, his eyes narrowed. "They have done well."

"Their task." The Doctor said, his voice sharp with anger, "Was it to gather up children who looked like good prospects, take them and make them into soldiers?"

Ramble nodded slowly, watching the Doctor. "They will be our battle-leaders. This upsets you?"

"You bet it does. And I'm going to have my say about it. Jenny, go back to the TARDIS. I'll be back in a bit." Turning, he strode in the direction of the Lady's pavilion.

Ramble looked after him. Then he shrugged. And they were in her father's console room.

"You've been stealing kids and training them as soldiers?" Jenny demanded. Ramble shook his head. "No. They were not stolen. They were asked."

"Right." Jenny shot back, glaring up at the tall man. "And when you tell a kid that he can go to magical places and play with the faeries or stay home, you've really given him a choice. Why don't you just make some of your own soldiers?"

"Like you?"

"Yeah, like me. If humans can do it you sure as hell can."

Ramble shrugged. "This way suffices. It is how my elders have always done things."

"Tradition doesn't make it right." Jenny said sharply, "Just makes it old."

For a long moment, Ramble stared at her. "Your kinswoman awaits. I must go."

"Wait a-" but he was already gone.

"Bastard." Jenny growled to herself. For a moment, she stood, hands balled into fists. The ship's proximity alarm shrilled.

…

"What was that about?" the Walker asked when Ramble appeared beside her.

"Your grandfather needed information. That is all."

The Walker nodded, and turned her attention back to the view. They'd seen three places, but this view was the finest; from where they stood on a ridge, the long field was spread out like a carpet.

"Does it look like this on earth as well?"

"More or less." Ramble said quietly. "It is a great place."

"It is beautiful." the Walker said, looking out. Ramble nodded. "Great battles have been waged here. It is fitting that another such battle should be."

The Walker looked away, her smile fading."If you'd been in many battles you wouldn't say that."

"I have seen battle." he said, as if thinking it over. "At times. Have you?"

The Walker smiled wryly. "Oh yes. I've seen war."

For a moment the hilltop was silent. The Walker glanced at the Eternal. He was staring over the plain, his skin lit with the same brightness that seemed to infuse this place. It made his good looks even more striking.

Now that was silly. She pulled out her sonic screwdriver, capturing images of the plain with it.

"By the way, what is this place called?"

"Moytura. Field of the Pillars." He said another word, and with it came the images of a black bird in the sky and the gleam of weapons.

"Your spoken language is lovely." The Walker said. Ramble nodded.  
"We use it when we do not wish to speak into the mind."

"Kind of you."

Turning, she saw the shining green land rolling away forever. She smiled. "Now I am glad I accepted your invitation. You've found a beautiful place here. It must be lovely at dawn."

"Would you like to see that?"

A moment later, the sky was brilliant with the colors of sunrise, an orange ball of sun just peeking over the rim of the world. The plain glowed like an emerald.

"It's beautiful." the Walker said, her eyes bright. She turned to Ramble."You're quite the artist!"

"Thank you. Walker." Then he leaned forward, and his lips were on hers.

The Walker was too shocked to react for just a moment. With his touch came his thoughts; swirling, vast, beautiful, strange patterns flashing by, lines of silver shot through with color and emotion and sensation, too much to take in all at once.

_By Rassilon! _

Ramble pulled away."I am sorry. I unnerved you. It was not my intent."

The Walker swallowed. His skin was so much hotter than her own, and her lips tingled where they'd touched.

"I-that is…" By Rassilon, she sounded like a love-sick ninety-year-old. She _would_ calm down. She looked out, over the green expanse. Composed herself. "I take it you were curious about the sensation. But please don't do that again."

Ramble looked at her for a long moment. Then he, too, turned away

…

"You can't take children!" the Doctor repeated. The two Eternal women stared at him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Why is this a problem?" the Lady asked, her green eyes puzzled.

"The fact that you have to ask that tells me you haven't spent nearly enough time around humans." The Doctor snarled.

"And yet we have been doing this for millennia." The woman called Maeve said. "When we need entertainers, or…breeding stock, or any sort of attribute of ephemerals."

"And in all that time you still haven't learned much." the Doctor retorted. "With your abilities you could create soldiers ready don't need to do this."

Maeve tossed her head. "Such silly little preoccupations. You bore me." And she was gone.

The Doctor turned to the Lady. "Just listen to me! You can't take children away from their parents. The humans have a deep emotional bond with their children. Breaking that bond is psychologically damaging to the parent and the kid."

The Lady smiled. "I have seen that, Time Lord. I have watched them. And I have created my own children. But once they are created, they go their own way. Is it not so with humans?"

"Not until the children are mature. And even then the bond is powerful. Here. Look in here for proof if you want to." He clearly pictured Martha with her baby, Sarah Jane with her Luke, all the parents he'd seen holding their children close. After a moment, he showed a little of his own attachment to his daughter and his granddaughter.

When he opened his eyes, the Lady was nodding. "I have seen these things. But children go on. These children will be great."

"Children grow up." The Doctor said. "They don't disappear. And when they do they might as well have died. Have any of your children died?"

The Lady shook her head slowly. "I created them to be closer to men. To share and understand their emotions. To feel, pain and joy alike. They can choose to return the energy that made them to me, and cease to be. And they can be wounded. But they will heal over some time. They do not die as men do."

"If you don't know how much it hurts, then don't dismiss it." The Doctor said, his voice low and raw. "Losing a child is more painful than you can understand."

The Lady cocked her head. "Make me understand, then. Show me."

The Doctor stared into her eyes. Cool, inquisitive, and interested. This creature could never sympathize with a description of pain. She had no prior experience of death to allow her empathy.

She was right. He'd have to show her.

"Fine." He sighed. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

The memory was one of those that he'd buried deep. He'd hoped to bury it for the rest of his existence. He steeled himself, and brought it to the forefront of his mind.

The regiment had been above Nagithej-swisoe, trying to give the population time to evacuate as the Daleks advanced. Another ship had materialized, and his TARDIS had read out the identification credentials. He had grinned, and opened a hailing frequency.

"Welcome to the battle, First Lance Sheara!"

"Ready for duty, Father!" the clear voice had replied. "And I think-"

Then the specialty cannon had fired from a Dalek warp-hopper, and her ship had disappeared in a blaze of blue flame.

His forehead creased at the echo of the emotions he had felt. It had been his fault. He hadn't protected her. And he had lost his eldest child.

Raw pain, a pain so deep that it felt as if both his hearts had been pulled from their moorings. And frantic hope that maybe he could do something, go back, save her, desperate hope. Then despair, and the black, howling, devouring rage. His daughter. Dead. For those moments, he'd been barely sentient.

He remembered it all. Then he opened his eyes.

The Lady was staring at him, her eyes wide and shocked. Tears tracked down her ivory skin.

"I…understand now." She said three words in her own tongue, and in them was a wish that the pain had never been, a sadness and a wish to comfort, everything she felt for him.

Drawing herself up, she returned to translatable language.

"What's done is done, and cannot be rewritten until after the battle. But you have my word that no more children will be asked by me."

The Doctor nodded.

"You have a storm in the heart of you." The Lady said. "I wonder that such a small creature as you can hold such a thing."

"You don't even know the half of it." The Doctor said, a shadow of his usual humor ghosting across his face.

"No." the Lady said, quiet surprise in her voice, "I do not."

…

Jenny tapped the keys to bring up the external viewer. She'd thought her father had scared off everybody who might bug them He was usually good at that, when he wanted to be. She just hoped it wasn't that inspector.

But no, it was Mary outside, calling. Jenny sighed. She jogged over to the outer door, and then walked through the simulated 'tent'.

"Hello Mary." She said brightly.

Mary nodded. "Good morning to you, miss." she said. She swallowed, and seemed to be looking Jenny over.

Damn it. She'd forgotten the bloody dress. She was still in jeans and an old black t-shirt.

"Oh, sorry," she prevaricated quickly, "I'm still in my work clothes. Can't really dig or run around the hill in a skirt."

"Of course, miss." she paused for a long moment. "I was wonderin' if your father might be in. If he might be inclined to speak with me for a time."

"He's not here at the moment, actually. But I can tell him anything for you."

"Oh, it's not a thing for a lady to be worrying over-"

"I've helped dig up dead bodies, Mary." Jenny said, cutting her off, "I can probably take whatever you need to say."

"Of course." The girl said nervously, fingers picking at the hem of her shawl.

"It's only…well, some of the men, neighbors an' friends of mine, have gone, and since they're gone the inspector wants to brand them murderers of the men dead last night."  
"Last night?" Jenny had thought it had been the night before. All this spatial transference was really mucking up her internal clock. She hated that.

"Yes," Mary continued. "There are a few lads, Jhon Flynn, Finn O'Hanalan, Billy Fitzwilliams and…" the pause was filled with so much emotion Jenny could almost taste it—"and William Ford, and I can speak for them personally. They're good lads, every one of them. None of them would do such a sinful thing, and if they're off t'join the army, they're gone of their own will and no harm done by them. I swear it's true."

"I know it's true." Jenny said, meeting the girl's pleading gaze, "and so does my father."

"Then could he intercede with the inspector for them? A fine English gentleman such as himself, if he spoke for them it might go well. Otherwise they'll be in the gaol the moment they reach the army posts." the girl's expression was so earnest that Jenny reached out a hand, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "Hey, it's okay. I know for a fact they're safe and not headed to the army, so no worries there, and my father will definitely-" then she realized what a mistake she'd made. Mary's look had changed to a shocked stare.

"You know where our lads are? Where they've gone?"

"Um…sort of."

"Where?"

"I think they went to the shipyards." she said quickly, "To look for work. At least that's what my dad said."

Mary eyed her dubiously. "The shipyards stopped takin' on men last year, and a fair number of them closed."

"Oh. Must of heard wrong. Maybe he meant they were taking a boat?"

"What? With no money? And all at once, with no send off? There's no truth in that." Mary scoffed. Then she lowered her head. "If you know where they are, please miss, put my mind at rest."

"Well, I'm not really sure…"

"Then how do you know they're safe?"

"I—because my father told me so. Now, I've got a lot of things to do, and—"

"And how does your father know where the lads are?" the girl asked quickly.

"I'll definitely ask him when he gets back. And I'll be sure to ask about William. He's your…" what was the right word? "sweetheart, right? Now I've really… "

"If you'd only tell me where he is-"

"Look, I can't tell you." Jenny said in exasperation, " All I can tell you is that he's safe and that I'll…that my father will look after him. I can't tell you any more than that. He's going to be gone for a while-"

"A while?" Mary's eyes widened. "Did they send him to the poor houses?"

"No! He's here, sort of, and it'll only be six days, okay? He'll be fine. I'll make sure of it. Now I really have to get going, and-"

Mary glared at her. "Oh, you English, all the same. I thought some of you might be different. But here you are, lady that you are. And you won't even tell folk what's happened to their own kin and neighbors!"

"I can't right now." Jenny said, frustrated. "Just trust me. I know where they are, and they're safe."

"If you know where they are, then I'll follow you." Mary said. "Every day, aye, and every night too, till I find out what your lot has done with our boys." She'd slipped into Irish in the heat of her emotions.

Jenny matched the girl's stare. "Fine. You want to know where they are? Remember Ramble?"

"The fay lad?"

"Yes, him. Well, his people have a war going, and they're…asking for volunteers in their army. It's just one fight, and they promised everyone would be back in six days. Okay?"

"And you expect me to believe that?" the girl said irately. "Just because I told you a few tales about the fay folk that I half believe, and I'm Irish, you think that I'll believe _eighteen _men were spirited away by the little people?"

"You believed it just fine when Ramble showed up." Jenny retorted.

"The man appeared out of thin air!" Mary snapped. "What else would you call that?"

"Interspatial translocation."

"There you are again, great English lady, using a bunch of grand words and looking down on me."

"Look, I'm not English!"

"Ah? Not English?" the girl scoffed. "And what are you then? Are you going to try to tell me you're an American? With that accent?"

"No! I'm not American, and I'm not English! I'm not even human, okay?"

"You're not what?"

"I'm not from this planet." Jenny replied. Mary's hands balled into fists, and she drew a deep breath."I may be a poor country girl, but if you think I'm fool enough to believe a tale like that on top of the others you've already told then you're-"  
This argument was getting ridiculous. Cooly, she grabbed Mary's wrists, pressing the girl's hands to her chest. Mary jerked back, but Jenny's grip was steady.

"What in the world are you-"

"Hold still and be quiet." Jenny sped up her hearts a little, to make the sensation of their beat clearer.

Mary glared at her. Then her eyes widened in her thin face. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged for a few moments. "You…you've got…."  
"Two hearts." Jenny replied. "Not human. Therefore, not English. Got it?"

….

The Time Lords worked. Mary sat in the chair, wearing the lost expression of someone trying to absorb too much experience too fast. Jenny glanced at her before turning back to her topographical map of the area. Maybe she'd gone overboard with her explanation. It was a pretty big shock for a person who had no concept of other sentient species. She jotted down another calculation on trajectories, and passed it to her father, who corrected a few bits.

_I still can't believe you told her._

_What was I supposed to do?_

_You could've tried walking away in the first place. She thought you were English. It wouldn't have surprised her._

_Sorry. I wanted her to know that they were okay. She's got a crush on one of the guys. And then…_

_And then you let your emotions get away from you._ He glanced at the girl, and sighed._ All the same, I suppose she won't be that much trouble._

_All she wants is to see this William guy and see that he's okay. Then she'll stop bugging us. _Jenny added hopefully._ The Eternals don't give a damn either way, and they'll rewrite the timeline anyhow. Besides, she might be beneficial in helping the men adjust. Training and preparation is going to be hard enough without the troops in deep culture shock._

Her father shrugged.

"You're from a place in the stars?" Mary's voice sounded dazed. Jenny turned from her work. She'd tried to explain after the initial shock, but not much of it had gotten through, she guessed. Her father was right. She ought to have kept her temper under control. That reaction was uncalled for.

"Another planet, sort of like this one, around another set of stars. A long ways away."

"How far?" Mary asked quietly.

"Depends on how you travel." The Doctor said over his shoulder. "But think of it this way: we could go to America in less than a minute, and it would take us a day."

_If we could still go there._ But she wasn't going to try to explain that.

"I see." Mary said. Jenny waited, but the girl said nothing else. She turned back to her work. She didn't like this calculation type, but if she could get it right this time…

"Miss Jenny?" said the quiet voice.

"Yeah?" Jenny asked distractedly.

"How is it that you have an English accent? Being from another world an' all?"

Jenny glanced at the girl, and shrugged."I guess it was because that was what I heard when I was born. I got my English from listening to my dad speak, and he speaks English with an English accent because..." She turned to her father, who'd stood to stretch. "Where did you get your accent?"

"Oh, just happened." the Doctor said, leaning against a wall, "First English speaker I heard was from England, and I s'pose I picked up the accent with the language. It's stuck too. Jumps area codes with regenerations, but it always comes out English." He glanced at Mary. "I'll have you know I speak French with a perfect accent. And Chinese. And Tonga, for that matter. S' just the English language I can't seem to reprogram up here." He tapped his forehead.

"Tonga?" Mary asked distantly.

"Pacific Island dialect. Lovely sunbathing round there. And coconuts. No bananas though. But, back to work." He turned, and dropped back into his chair. "Strategy. Strategy." he stared at the map, one hand tugging at his hair. "There has to be a strategy that will end this fight, clean, quick and decisive." Then he sighed. "I'm no good at ground battles. It's something I skimped over in Primary school, and it's been _ages_ since then."

"And seeing Hannibal cross the Alps didn't help?" Jenny asked jokingly. The Doctor snorted. "All I learned was to dress better and avoid stepping in elephant doings. And this needs a real hum-dinger of a strategy, too. They've got to win outright."

"We could try the Fothosian Move. Or the Etra Curve." Jenny judged. "Of course it all depends on the cohesion of the troops and their merits as fighters. We need to know every participating group, their cultural martial tactics and their general abilities, know what we're working with. Be nice to know the other side's too. But I think with the proper training and decisive, accurate leadership we can definitely win this. Of course weapons mechanization and basic tactical maneuverability of the battlefield will be important, but that can probably be overcome with a little aerial cover, even arrows would do, or whatever maneuvers the Eternals will use. Of course if they're in on it we'll have to know what sort of stuff they're going to pull, but it can be worked around. Just another set of tactical variables. What do you think?" She glanced up at her father, who was staring at her with wide eyes.

"I think that all went right over my head." He said. Turning, he strode to the hat rack, grabbing his coat.

"Where are you going?" Jenny asked, stepping forward.

"We—" he said, pulling on his coat, "Are going to get you all the tactical details you need. Come on, allons-y!"

Jenny glanced at Mary."Well, come on if you want to see William."

"Where?" Mary asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jenny smiled sarcastically, pushing a strand of pale hair from her eyes. "Fairyland, I guess."


	9. Chapter 9

9

On the other side of the gate, they almost had to lead Mary by the hand to keep her walking.

"Land of the young," she whispered in Gaelic.

"Something like that." the Doctor replied. Soon they were standing on the hill overlooking the battle field. Behind her, Jenny heard Mary gasp.

"But this is the field of Moytura!" the girl said, staring at the scene in shock. "That's miles an' miles away! An' we only walked the short bit of a way!"

"I thought the spatial component was a little compressed." the Doctor said musingly. "I expect a lot of the physical laws are a little more malleable here. Easier energy absorption, the lighting, all the trimmings. Makes it easier for folks who aren't used to following physical laws. Explains why they get such a shock when they interact with the real world too."

"I thought you couldn't break the physical laws." Jenny commented as they walked down onto the plain.

"Sort of. You can't bypass the laws of physics. But you can slip by them a bit and tweak them just so, if you're good. And they are very good."

Jenny nodded. She had to agree with that.

The camp was becoming a proper staging ground, with simple canvas tents set up in rows. Here and there a more distinctive tent would show up; one of fine opaque polyfilm, and another that looked like animal hide thrown over poles.

"She's got this many people," Jenny noted, "and the first day isn't even over. I'd estimate that she's got over five thousand, give or take a hundred."

"Of course they're not much use if she can't get them organized." the Doctor commented airily. "Might want to mention that to her."

Soon they were near the center of the camp, and the Doctor turned, putting a hand on Mary's shoulder. "Why don't we see if we can find William and the other young bucks from your village. Then I'll take you home." he smiled slightly at his daughter. "You might want to wander over and pay the Lady your respects. Good form and all that."

"Thought you didn't want me alone with the Eternals."

"Yes, well," the Doctor said, tucking his hands in his suit pockets, "I'm sure she'll keep an eye on you." With a last, mischievous smile, he turned and led the young Irish girl away.

Jenny couldn't help smiling, shaking her head. "Clever clogs." she murmured. "Had it all planned out."

Then she turned, and squared her shoulders.

The Lady was standing over her charts again, her eyes closed. She glanced up momentarily, smiled, and then returned to her reverie. Jenny studied the charts while she waited. An aerial view of the long plain was spread out, showing one encampment at either end. But aside from the topography, that didn't tell her much of anything. And the topography wasn't bad for a battle. Some long, flat places where a large running force could get up speed, but good shelter and concealment opportunities as well. Strategic maneuvers ticked through Jenny's head. She'd need to know a lot more than this though, before she chose a strategy.

Of course, she reminded herself, this wasn't her battle. If she was lucky she might be allowed to fight in it.

Then the Lady sighed, shook her head, and opened her eyes. Her smile seemed sad, almost bitter. "Welcome, Jenny."

"Looks like a good field." Jenny said in reply. "Lots of maneuverability."

"You know of battle?"

"I was created to be a soldier, ma'am. I've got a lot of military knowledge and strategy programmed into me."

The Lady nodded thoughtfully. "And you have wit, as well. That was very wise of you, to answer Maeve as you did. And to hide your name so well."

"I haven't got anything to hide." Jenny answered. "I wasn't given a proper name when I was born."

The serene face smiled. "Oh child. Names are not only given by those who shared your making. All that Is named you." The Lady smiled at Jenny's bewildered face. "Look back. Think of the day when you learned the fabric of the four planes. The All that Is gave you your name, if you can find it. Do you remember now?"

Jenny looked down, thinking. She must be talking about the day she had looked into the Schisim. Then Jenny's eyes widened. There had been that moment…the memory played behind her eyes. _She saw the Universe, all of it, all things in all times, all things as they were meant to be. And the Universe saw __**her**__; recognized her, and, in some way, she felt it acknowledged her, like that perfect light had reached out and touched her, marked her, __**knew her**__._

The Lady's smile was soft and proud. "Your name." she said, looking down into the wide blue eyes. "Do you see it?"

Jenny shook her head. "Sorry. No."

"You can find it within that moment. Remember this."

Jenny nodded. Uncomfortable, she turned her eyes back to the charts. "You shouldn't have much of a problem here. Is there a predetermined battlefield?

The Lady nodded, pointing to an open part of the plain bordered by a high ridge on one side. Jenny nodded. "Not half bad. If you go toe-to-toe with equal forces—"

"Which we will not." The Lady said. Jenny looked up sharply.

"Why not?"

The Lady shook her head. "Maeve's army is already twice the size of mine, and the first day is not yet over. We must muster more men, but it is difficult finding those who will do battle. I will lose this first challenge, and I fear defeat in the second. But I have made my vow and challenge. It will be held to."

"Do you know exact numbers at all?"

"Six thousand of mine. Ten thousand of hers. Soon she will rest, comforted in the knowledge that I cannot hope to raise as many as she."

"Good." Jenny said. The Lady turned inquiring eyes on her. "Why?"

"Because she's going to sit on her ass while you get ready. A smaller, well-trained group can easily outmaneuver and defeat a larger group. She's going for size, right? Then you go for skill and ability."

"And this succeeds?"

Jenny nodded enthusiastically. "Throughout history. David can beat Goliath by substituting effort for strength. It's like humans hunting a bear. The bear can kill a human easy, but the humans win because they use their heads. All you've got to do is train up the troops."

"And how long do you think such training would require?" the Lady asked. Jenny's face lost much of its animation. "Usually, about nine months. In a pinch you can manage three months. I'm sorry. We've only got three days, don't we?"

The Lady smiled. "Three days can be longer than you think. One day can last a great while. If you can teach my men, I can give you time in which to accomplish the task."

Jenny's eyes lit up."You'd let me help?"

"I request your assistance in the training and the battle." The Lady said. "Your father is our judge, but you are free to do as you will. Will you aid us?"

Jenny nodded."I'm going to need to know what groups we've got, what culture and time period they're from. Then give me a couple of hours to read up on all of them, and I'll be ready to get started. By the way, what are you doing about food? Humans can't absorb environmental energy."

The Lady's eyes widened. "I had forgotten that. I will see to it."

"Good. With your permission, I'll go through camp and gather the strategic information I need."

The Lady nodded. Jenny gave a small bow, and marched out. She had work to do.

…..

Finally, she'd gotten all their leaders together. There were thirty Eternal-trained Chosen ones, men and women. Apparently the plan had been for them to act as captains and take control of the situation. At that they were worse than useless. They'd called for order, but nobody in the whole group listened to them. There were five leaders of sixth-century Irish tribes. A group from the tenth century led by a man called Brian Boru. Apparently he was a king in his own time, she remembered from her reading. A bunch of men from the third to the fourteenth century who all used the same general name for themselves, _Fian_, which didn't translate right. She remembered something about that. Roving bands of warriors who spent their summers in the wilderness, right? They were mostly tough young men. They looked good for a fight. In fact, if she didn't do something they'd probably start a fight right now. Then there were the guys who said they were leading 'fenians', from the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. A guy in the dress of the 20th century, first world war, who said he was a captain of the Irish volunteers, and two guys from the second world war who had 'one of the green regiments under us'. A woman in 16th century man's dress who said her name was Gráinne Ní Mháille, and that she was the Queen of the North Sea. Some guy saying he was a leader of the Irish Republican lads, and demanding to know what the hell was going on. Another guy said he led the men of the UVF, and was glaring at the Irish Republican guy. They both looked like they were from the 1920's. There was one Spanish guy, who was, if she remembered right, from the 1580's. There was a captain of a 26th century Peace Keeper troop, a 30th century Planetary Defense lieutenant who led a contingent, Eirann division, a 61st century commander of one of the Tracker Scouts Brigades, an 83rd century woman who led a group called the Valera Fighters; she guessed that was a mercenary scout group based on the way the woman was dressed. And a tough-looking 82nd century man who said he led the Green Gremlins. Jenny just hoped that wasn't a sporting team. Mixed in were a bunch of regular guys from all periods, who seemed to be representing either themselves or the people who'd been picked up from one area or another. She was grateful for whatever translation mechanism the Eternals had set up. It allowed them to talk easily. Unfortunately, it also allowed them to argue. And shout at one another. Put a bunch of nervous humans together, Jenny thought, and what do they do? Fight.

"Oi, we've got a blacky here!"

"What'd you just call me?" the dark skinned 83rd century woman demanded, turning on the WWI soldier.

Jenny shook her head. They were a bloody brawl waiting to happen. She got really and truly sick of watching humans fight their own kind. It happened all too bloody often.

"Still like to know what the hell is going on here." The Irish republican growled.

"Stop your moaning." The UVF leader said sharply, "You sound like a child."

The Irish Republican man retorted in Gaelic. Unfortunately, it translated.

"They truly are as savages." The Spaniard said, watching the fight dispassionately.

"And who are you to talk like that?" the 16th century woman spat. "We're all unnerved. Just let them have their scrap and be done with it."

The Spaniard drew himself up. "Woman, I am a commander of the Great and Most Fortunate Navy. Speak to me like that and—"

"Woman? I am a queen, you foreign whoreson, and you'll address me as one, or—"

"Shut _up_!" Jenny marched between the protestors, shoving them apart "Protestant against Catholic, English against Irish, English against French, Sunni against Shiite, black against white, pure human against neohomonid; don't you people ever _learn_? Lay off!"

The group fell silent.

"Better." She said. "Now look. You all know why you're here, right?"

There were murmurs. "For Erin." One man said.

"Planetary invasion, right?" one of the young 61st century men said.

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. "You're here because there's going to be a battle, right? A battle against an enemy hostile to planet Earth. To this world. It's also a kind of contest. We win, they leave. We lose, this world gets wiped out of existence. So, we're not going to lose. I don't care where you're from, or what you're fighting for, or what you think of the bloke next to you. Right now, you're fighting for your _entire planet_, okay? For your home planet, your existence and your future. You and your men are going to train as an army. And when I'm done with you, you're going to fight like an army too."

"And who are you, girl?" one of Brian Boru's men sneered. "You do not speak over our king."

Jenny stepped forward. "I speak over everybody here. I'm Jenny Good. I've got eighty thousand two hundred seventy eight years of military specialization and strategy in my head. I'm a Time Lord. I've traveled through time and been to every one of your periods and I know how all of you fight. And better yet, I know how your enemy fights. And I know how you're going to win. If you want to die, ignore me. If you want to win, then you'll listen to me."

"You?" the Spaniard said, "A _girl_?"

Jenny stepped over. "A _girl_ who can break your arm in three places with not much effort. A _girl_ who was meant to be a soldier from the moment she was born. A _girl _ who's seen millions of years of battlefields. A _girl_ who the Eternals themselves asked to train you. Me. Deal with it."

She turned to the rest of the crowd. "Do you want to win?"

Heads nodded. Then the Fian broke into a cheer. Jenny grinned fiercely."Good. Training program starts now."

In the slow, endless day, Jenny assigned the Chosen ones to battalions of a hundred and seventy a piece. Using the tactic of complementary abilities, she put less experienced fighters with men who could teach them and watch their backs. She put a battalion together out of Fian and mercenary scouts, both trained in swift attack and good at keeping a low profile. She paired Grainne's men, Brian Boru's men and the Spanish off into several battalions, so that the people best at fighting all out toe-to-toe battles would be together, and instructed them to train with the aerial support battalion. Six Eternals were assigned to every battalion from the ones who wanted to experience warfare, and several of the younger Eternals who said that they were skilled healers were assigned to find and set up medical accommodations. Though the rules of battle stated that they couldn't use abilities beyond those a human had access to, they were good warriors even hampered, partly because it was difficult to wound somebody who could just reorganize his molecules so that every wound he got healed instantly. There were scuffles, especially when she explained that every battalion would have to camp together, which would separate some people from their friends and their own period.

"You have to tell them that they don't get to question it." She told one Chosen man who came to her, "You're their commander. They don't question you. You're leading men. You're not in charge just because you say that you're supposed to be. You're in charge when you make them believe that you're supposed to be in charge. I want them to camp together because it'll make them get to know their bunkmates, and it'll make them closer as comrades. Now go back and get them moving."

Regular meetings of the leaders were set up in what she calculated to be about weekly intervals. There the Eternals did come in convenient, calling everyone at exactly the same moment telepathically. Getting them together was easy enough, it was just talking to them that was tough. Food was the first priority for most of them. At their first meeting, Jenny explained.

"Right, what you do is go to one of the standing stones designated here on the map, and picture really clearly in your mind what you want."

"We imagine food, and it appears?" the Spaniard scoffed.

"Yep." Jenny said, "Got a problem with that?"

Aside from the fact that a live deer, pigs and cows appeared whenever the one of the Fian bands asked for meat, that solved the food problem. It also fixed requisition, as the men discovered that they could ask for anything from horses to hovercrafts to battle gear and haft-blasters in the same way. Now they just had to learn to use them.

By the end of the first long day, which Jenny reckoned had taken two weeks from noon to sunset, she had a working army infrastructure going. The rest was just training. Weapons training, tactical training, discipline. Turning this mishmash of history into a working army.

Yeah. She'd need the time.

….

"The sun's not going to set for the next month," Jenny said at the early morning meeting that followed a night that, only twelve hours long, had felt unnaturally short. "So I want you all to make sure that you get your sleep. Eight hours to every twelve you're awake. I don't want to see any more of you bleary eyed because you're not sleeping. If your men are having trouble sleeping tell them to cover their eyes with a cloth when they lay down, and if that doesn't work get a melatonin injection or one of the Eternal's tricks from the med staff."

"This out of you." Grianne said with a laugh in her voice. "When have I ever seen you take your rest in these past weeks?"

"Different kind of girl, different sleep requirements." She replied. "I'm getting my rest. You worry about your men getting theirs. And if anyone is the least bit sick in your troops, remember, send them to the medics. And guys, these medics—doctors, healers, whatever you call them—they're really good. Don't treat wounds yourselves if you don't have the tech to do it, okay? So, that's it for the day. Let's get to the training fields. I want to see bullseyes with the blasters out of your men today, Finn. And Mag Rui, a javelin's great, but your men suck on the hand held energy weapons. Work on it."

"My men prefer the ash spear." The sandy-haired bear of a man said. "It is what the Darinii have always used."

Jenny shrugged. "Sorry" she said sweetly, "but gun beats spear, every time. You go up against an energy weapon and you'll end up a black smudge on the field. So, get them on the guns, okay?" She stood. "Okay, like I said. Training field."

She strode down the trail with her men to where lines of targets had been set up. Men were firing blasters, plasma pistols, haft guns and arrows. Some practiced covering a comrade with heavy fire, while others worked on their aim. Further along, wooden dummies were used for sword and spear practice. Jenny nodded to herself. The late-period men were teaching the early-period ones a lot about weapons and tactics, and the early period ones were teaching them to fight with their bodies and their instincts, not just their heads. She swept her eyes over the field. If they kept up this regimen, they'd be in good shape come showtime.

Tactics and maneuvers was where they really needed to drill now. She had started running every battalion through drills in tactical maneuvers, but it was going to take time before they were good at them. And they had to be good. In Jenny's mind every battalion had a specific purpose, from Leaf's aerial battalion to Kelwyth's heavy infantry, to Madwyn and Rabbit's clever guerillia battalions who could worry the enemy's flanks. And then there were the fleet battalions, and the foot battalions.

She still needed to work on her full strategy. It wasn't quite ready. But she knew they'd be hitting hard and very, very fast. Stun the larger opponent, then knock them out. Hit so hard and so unexpectedly that they'd never get a chance to put her smaller force on the defensive.

She noticed Ramble and her sister practicing with javelins. They were laughing, the Walker pointing at a target with a javelin sticking out of it. Jenny smiled. They were together a lot these days, Ramble scouting and the Walker researching his findings, staying remotely connected to her TARDIS through a reading pad. They'd brought in a lot of useful reconnaissance. And it looked like the Walker was having fun.

"Looking good, Soldier."

Jenny turned, her eyes bright. Her father was strolling down the path, hands in the pockets of his blue suit.

"Father!" She ran up the path, catching him in a hug. "Where have you been? Haven't seen you in three weeks!"

"Whoa, there." The Doctor said laughingly, "Three weeks? I only went back to the TARDIS for…" then he snapped his fingers. "She's must have a regional time-dilation going. Must have exceptions in it for all animate life forms and anything with their DNA imprint on it; anything that's been touched. Gives her time to train the troops right?"

Jenny nodded. "Gives me time to train them actually. She asked me to do the training!"

"Brilliant. How's it coming?"

"We've got a lot to do, but the troops are becoming more and more proficient."

"I bet they are, with you training them."

Jenny grinned. "Finally found a use for all the neural programming in my head, hunh?"

Her father nodded, smiling. "Yup. Knew it'd come in handy eventually. And it looks like…" he trailed off, catching sight of the Walker casting a javelin. "Blimey. She's not going to fight, is she?"

Jenny shook her head."Nah. I think she's just hanging out with Ramble."

"And how much 'hanging out' have they been doing?" the Doctor asked, annoyed. Jenny looked up at him."She's safe with him, Father. And I think she likes hanging out with him."

"I noticed." The Doctor said quietly. "Of course the last time she liked a boy, she married him."

Jenny didn't know what that was about, and she figured it probably wasn't the time to ask. She turned."Come on. I want to show you the rest of the camp."

….

"Missed again, Walker." the young Eternal said. The Walker groaned theatrically. "Oh, to have visible timelines again. How am I supposed to aim when I can't see where the spear might go?"

"You must learn to trust your arm, not your eye." He said amusedly.

"My accuracy wouldn't be nearly so poor if I could see properly." the Walker groused. "You're not just teleporting your spears to the target, are you?"  
"I am not." Ramble laughed, brushing a few dark curls out of his eyes. "Though I shall remember to do so should any weapon come near you. I fear you have no skill in defense."

"Oh," the Walker said coyly, "you'd be surprised." she handed him his javelin. "Poke it at me."

Ramble looked at her dubiously. "Why?"

"I want to show you something. You're the one who said you loved to learn new things. Go on. You won't hurt me."

Slowly, Ramble moved the practice spear towards her. Carefully, she let time dilate around her. The spear slowed to a standstill, and she neatly stepped sideways, letting time snap back into place. Ramble blinked. "Time twisting." He said. "You do it simply, but quite nicely."

"Well, you've damned me with faint praise." She said teasingly."If I was working at it I'd bet that you wouldn't find it so simple."

Ramble grinned, his green amber eyes alight. "There's a wager in that. You run then, and I shall try to catch you."

The Walker grinned. "Fine." And she took off, zigzagging across the field. She could hear Ramble's feet behind her. With a grin she let time dilate around her, feinting left. She jumped spears and ducked arrows frozen in space, then let herself faze into realtime and back out of it. She was pretty sure of her lead now, and fazed back in. And there was Ramble right in front of her, arms wide open, grinning. She was moving too fast to do anything but bowl into him, knocking him over.

For a long moment, they just lay there, catching their breath, almost laughing. Ramble grinned at her. "My thanks for the practice, Walker."

"Don't mention it."

His eyes were bright. She found herself staring into them. Behind them she could see that swirling of iridescent and complex patterns, so familiar and yet so strange.

And then he laid his lips on hers. Warm and sweet, almost a delicate brushing of his lips on hers, at first. And it grew sweeter.

This time, she didn't draw away from the kiss.

…..

Compared to the impossibly long day, the second night blinked by. The Doctor sat on the brow of the ridge, looking out over the camp. Things looked so peaceful from up here.

"Lovely." Said the Lady's voice. Fabric rustled as she took a seat beside him. The Doctor nodded.

For a long moment, they sat in companionable silence.

"What say you, Time Lord?" her voice was quiet in the silence. "Shall we succeed?"

The Doctor snorted. "You're the all-knowing Eternal. You tell me."

There was another long moment of silence.

"I did know all, once. In my true self I share memory with every other member of my kind. But not now. Skills and memories are scattered among my children. Bits of remembered knowledge. But none of us can remember the whole and still hold this form. So, I ask."

The Doctor turned, his brown eyes old, and met eyes so much older. "Honestly? I don't know. I'm a Time Lord. Pretty useless when I can't view Time. And you've gotten rid of everything but personal causality in this place. But at a guess…I'd say you'll win. I hope you'll win. But I can't be sure."

"We are matched in that then." The Lady said softly. The Doctor nodded.

Their comfortable silence was broken by the sound of feet hurrying on the coarse hillside grass. The Doctor turned, getting to his feet."Mary. What're you doing here?"

"Doctor…" Mary gulped a deep breath of air, pushing her wild hair out of her face. Her shawl was missing, and the Doctor noted that her shoes weren't completely buttoned. "The landlord, he's called in a British regiment. They say they're headed off to fight brigands on the road, but they're going to Rath Dubh, and" she drew a breath, but before another word was spoken she had disappeared.

The Doctor spun around. "What did you do that for?"

The Lady shook her head, eyes wide. She blinked. "She is back in her own place, but the gate is closed to her."

The Doctor frowned. Turning, he called out. "Maeve! I want a word. Now!"

There was a deep sigh to his left. "What is it now, little time-lordling?"

The Doctor turned to glare at the woman. "Why did you exile the human who was just here?"

Maeve shrugged nonchalantly. "One of mine decided she talked too much to this one." She said, pointing at the Lady. "So he removed her. Be grateful she lives."

"You have no right to interfere with people under the Lady's command." The Doctor said, keeping a tight rein on his temper. "Or to refuse them entry. Otherwise the same rules will apply to you."

Maeve stared at him, her expression something like exasperation."So many rules, little man. At every turn. Why are you always thwarting me?"

"Because I'm the Doctor," he said levelly, looking her in the eye, "and as long as you fight the way you do, for the goals you've named, I'll do my best to stop you."

The woman drew herself up. "Then you are no impartial witness, and so no judge." She spat viciously. "Go, and fight for this one. Or leave. But if you fight, know that I will have your name and much torment from you ere you cease to exist. Fool."

And she was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

10

The sun stood at the noon position. Two weeks to the big day. Jenny watched a group of men creeping forward, suddenly disappearing beneath an 83rd century visibility mediation shield. The late period tools were really complementing strategy.

She'd been walking through camp for the last few hours, and she was pretty well satisfied. Her troops knew their work, and their battalion leaders had drilled them constantly. The leaders themselves had really shaped up once they got over the idea that people would listen to them just because they were Chosen.

"Chieftain." Jenny turned to a slight, Asian girl. The troops had picked up the habit of calling her Chieftain Jenny, and that was good. A soldier should show respect for their superiors. The girl threw a salute, which Jenny returned. "Battalion leader Willow."

Willow dropped the salute with wide eyes. "Chieftain, you must see what my men have done."

Jenny grimaced. "Shit. Have they brought another bull into camp?"

"No. For once what they made was good. Come!"

Willow's battalion was made up of Darinii, Erdinii, a band of Fian and thirty percent of the Valera Fighters, a troop meant to move with speed and fight with ferocity. There were five battalions like hers, called the fleet battalions. All of them were well-trained, intelligent, and eager for the fight. They were also the hardest to keep in order. Jenny followed Willow to her part of the training ground. From two hundred feet down the road she could see the blue white and orange and purple crackles of energy weapons.

"Nice job, Willow." she said happily. "How did you finally get them to use the—" Then she got a little closer, and her blue eyes grew wide in her pale face. The men, wearing plas-metal armor that their late-period members had introduced decorated with personal sigils and protective symbols, were holding spears. But these spear-tips crackled with energy, and when the men stabbed them forward bolts of energy shot ahead, obliterating targets that took seconds to reform.

"Is this good by you, then?" Mag Rui asked as he came up to them. His spear glowed orange.

"Where did you guys get these?" Jenny asked in shocked admiration. A grin split the big man's bearded face. "Finn MacCool thought in the giving place of a spear he would be proud to wield in battle. And he imagined it with the fire the guns give in the tip of it. This is what came of it." He hefted his. "And a fine thing it is too."

"Yeah." Jenny said, "You've got great accuracy and agility with them. How's the range?"

For answer, the man jabbed his spear forward and down. A patch of turf sizzled two hundred feet away.

"Nice!" Jenny exclaimed. "These are stellar! Pass the idea on to the other fleet battalions, okay?" Mag Rui nodded, and walked back to his practice. Standing still, Jenny watched the men wield their weapons with a fierce grin. "They're great! They'll really have an edge on the field."

"You've taught them much." The battalion leader said. "You have been of great aid to us." She turned to look at Jenny earnestly. "It makes you a target for the enemy."

"Don't worry, Willow." Jenny said, a little surprised. "They can't get at me in camp."

"Perhaps." Willow said, "But they will try to get the name and control of you. Be careful, Chieftain."

Jenny nodded. "I'll keep it in mind."

…..

The Walker crawled forward slightly, looking over the brow of the hill. She held her viewing screen to her eyes.

_Yes, Father was right. There are two more British regiments down there. Another two hundred men. _

_**Then her force is twice the size of ours.**_

The Walker nodded. _Exactly twice. _ She'd grown comfortable with his form of telepathy in the past months. It was strong, but it was also pleasant after its own fashion. It had been strange adjusting to, even in terms of sensation; while human thoughts were somewhat muddy and multicolored and Time Lord thoughts generally appeared in the mind tinged with gold, Ramble's thoughts were silver in her head.

It was quite liberating, though. The Walker had spent a great deal of time among humans when she'd been married, and had to guard herself against slipping into telepathy, even with her husband, even in the height of passion. Human minds could handle only the most delicate of telepathic connections in general. This…friendship was different. It was lovely to be around a mind that would never be overwhelmed by hers inadvertently, she thought. Then she noted that Ramble had stiffened.

"Oh look. Two peeping mice."

Ramble put a hand on the Walker's back, and they were something else. There was a low laugh behind them.

"Stand up, little half-blood, and face your elder."

Slowly, Ramble stood. "I greet you, old one. You fight for she who is Maeve."

"And you, little mouse." the woman said. At least, she had the shape of an old woman, though her skin was a deep grayish blue. She smiled. There were fangs in her mouth. "Why do you approach our camp?"

"To keep ourselves as equal opponents to you." Ramble replied coldly. The old woman cackled. "Equal? Your men are not enough."

"We shall see.

She turned her black eyes on the Walker. "And what is this little morsel? She yours?"

The Walker stood, holding herself as straight as she could. "I'm the Walker." She said, attempting to project some sense of who and what she was the way Ramble did.

"I see." the woman said. She stared at them. "What are you called, boy?"

Ramble met her eyes and her seeking mind. "They call me Ramble." He gave both parts of his name, word and concept. And the Walker nearly started. There was a new impression included in his name. And it was _her_, her name and nature, Time Lord gold mixed into his Eternal silver. He had included her essence as a part of himself.

The thing that looked like a woman smiled. "Handfasted so young, child. And to one so…interesting."

The two Eternals stared at one another for a long moment.

"As you will then." She cackled. Then she was gone.

"What was that all about?" The Walker asked. Ramble shrugged. "Insults for the greater part." He glanced down the hill. "We are near camp. Come."

They walked down onto the plain in silence.

"Ramble?" the Walker asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"You included me in your name. Why did you do that?"

"It put you under my protection." he replied, "She could not touch you without facing me for it."

"Oh." The Walker said, "Of course."

Ramble paused to help her over a stone. "Does it trouble you?"

"Oh, no."

"Then…would it trouble you if…if I left it there?"

The Walker's eyes shot to his green gaze. He quirked a half-smile. "It suits me well. I…enjoy the sound of it there."

"Then…" the Walker swallowed, "I suppose. If you like."

Ramble smiled, and laid a kiss on her forehead. _**Thank you, bheir me o. **_

"What does that mean?"

Ramble grimaced. "My weakness once more. I had not meant for you to hear that. I apologize."

Then he walked on.

…

Night had finally fallen, and the fires were lit. The last night before the battle, music came from many camps, keeping up spirits.

Jenny walked the beaten lanes of camp, hands in the pockets of a big leather coat she'd found in the wardrobe. She'd taken to wearing it in the evenings. It felt a bit like armor to her, made her feel a little stronger.

Horses wickered to one another. Men and women talked, laughed, and joked. Here and there amorous pairs walked close together or nodded tents. Jenny nodded to herself. Sex was a great way to diffuse the building tension.

Walking through the pavilion square, she noted a light on in the Lady's pavilion. For a moment, the second silhouette looked familiar. But then it was gone.

Walking past Leaf's battalion post, she spotted William sitting close to Mary, whispering. William glanced up, then grinned, beckoning. "Miss Jenny!"

"Hey William." Jenny said. She glanced at Mary. "The Lady send somebody to pick you up?"

Mary nodded. "Her Ladyship sent one of her people."

"That was nice of her." Jenny said. Mary and William both nodded. Three months of good food and new sets of clothes had done wonders for them both, and Jenny was pleased to see how fit they looked.

"Miss Jenny," William said, meeting her eyes, "I just wanted to say, well…good luck tomorrow, miss."

"You too." Jenny said. "You're flying, right?"

"Oh yes. They taught me how."

"Good. Then get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

Then she walked on, into the dark.

…

The Walker moved through the darkened camp, coming to the proper battalion camp. Men walked by, smiling against the fear in their eyes.

She should make this quick, so he could get some rest. Although, he had told her Eternals didn't actually need to sleep. She'd learned a great deal about his kind in the past month.

Approaching the tent, she calmed her mind.

_Ramble? Could I have a word?_

Ramble opened the flap of his tent, his eyes inquisitive. "Come in. What is it?"

A suit of plas-metal armor was laid out on the floor of his tent, green on deeper green in swirling designs that glinted in the light of a few candles.

"Were you back in the eighteenth century again?" the Walker asked solicitously, noting the green velvet coat that Ramble wore over his tunic and leather leggings. He nodded.

"Scouting. I think no more men will join her from that place."

"Well, there's some relief in that, I suppose." She said. Ramble nodded, dropping to the wide mattress that took up most of his tent. "Sit, if you would." He said, nodding to the wide mattress. The firelight played over his face.

_Not wise._ She thought. _Every time you sit near him, you become slightly unreasonable._

She sat. "I wanted to talk to you about the gates. Do you think we should perhaps close them tomorrow morning? To prevent further repercussions on Earth."

Ramble nodded thoughtfully. "A wise idea. I will tell the Lady." He blinked, and nodded once more."She will see to it."

"Oh. Good."

For a moment, they sat in silence.

"I've been meaning to ask you." The Walker said in a would-be calm voice, "What does 'bheir me o' mean? You said it a few weeks ago. The words didn't translate."

"That is because I enjoy the sound of them."

"And what do they mean?"

Ramble glanced at her, and glanced away again."Bhier me o croi. Friend of my heart."

The Walker blinked. "Oh. I see."

He looked up sharply, meeting her eyes. "I have not offended you, have I?"

"No."

He nodded, and swallowed. "There is a thing I wish to say. I do not wish to annoy or offend. But… I think that…I am… I…I am…" His fingers twined in the velvet of his coat as he sighed, a frustrated rush of air. "I have no skill with these things. Words."

She couldn't help but laugh, a little. In the three months that she'd known the man, she'd never seen him quite this frustrated. "What words are you looking for, precisely?"

His eyes met hers, and their amber-green intensity caught her breath. "The right ones. And I cannot find them. But this must be said. And…" He leaned towards her, his long fingers brushing her hand as his thoughts brushed hers. The velvet of his coat left a trail of goosebumps down her arm. "If I may?"

She stared into his eyes a moment. So much longing, and hope.

Carefully, she opened her mind.

Ramble's thoughts were a tapestry silver, of sensation and emotion, symbols and perfect definitions. _This _was his true tongue; the weavings of thought and sensation, directly transmitted between individuals. Even the words his people did use were only shorthand for this, a shortcut around true communication. He could find no words because he had never had to translate his emotions into such a simple system. And now, he was showing her what he felt for her. Her hearts beat faster.

"Ah. I see." Now it was her turn to gulp.

She should not feel like this. She had far better control of herself. Calm _down_.

"My language has words for that. I'll have to teach you some time."

"Some languages are older." He said softly. "And some need no teaching."

"Like yours."

"Like mine. But I…" He was so close to her, eyes like forest pools. "I have never felt like this. This is not a thing I understand."

She smiled in the half-light, her eyes black as the night sky. "You're not the only one. Most species in the universe struggle with…this."

Her breath was unsteady in her lungs, and growing less controlled the longer their eyes met. She had always been too emotional. Too prone to passions. For some perverse reason, the voice of an old professor rang in her head.

_Being Time Lords, we are above such nonsensical reactions of the instincts._

Well, she'd always thought that man a bit of a prig.

Ramble's voice was just above a whisper in the dark.

"I have never been…I want to walk rather than move from place to place, because it gives me more time with you. You…I think of you. You make me…understand, so much I understand now. When I see things, I wonder if they would please you or amuse. I find myself…appearing near your tent or in your ship, when I had not intended to. Is this…does this happen?"

She nodded. _Stay calm!_

He smiled. "I do not even know that. I have so many things to learn. To experience."

"Experience is a great teacher."

He smiled tentatively. "And I do love to learn. So if I…" He reached out one long hand, moving so slowly, so afraid that it would meet resistance. His fingers traced the line of her collar bone, so hot against her skin.

Every inch of her seemed to come awake. She shouldn't respond like this. She had never intended…All the old rules welled up in her head. This was far too much. She was going to go too far. He was another telepath, if they continued she wouldn't be able to resist linking to him, and who knew what that would do. She was going to do something that profound, on the spur of the moment? And how long had she known him? Barely three months. She was a Time Lord, she was above reaction, she should just get up, say good night, and return to her own quarters. They would enter battle soon, there were plans to be made…But she met his eyes, amber and moss, and the rules faded, falling away.

She leaned closer, moving with the same trepidation, her eyes on his.

"Then I might…"

Their lips touched. Slow. Gentle. Carefully they explored each other. It was impossible to tell who moved, but they drew closer, shoulders touching. Her hand wrapped itself in his curls, stark white against the dark. Every part of her seemed to be leaning in to him.

His fingers brushed and caressed her hair, then ran along the back of her neck. Every place he touched took the fire of his hot skin.

"And if I do this…." He whispered softly against her neck, tracing the curve of it with his lips.

"I may have to… agree. But if we go on…" She was not sure if she could keep her mind cool and controlled. Not this time. Not with him.

A chuckle came, low and throaty, close to her ear. "Never fear, bheir me o_._ I can match you in that."

Of course he could. He was an Eternal. What had she been thinking?

His kiss fell just a bit below the hollow of her throat, and his thumb found a place just in front of her ear. She gasped. If he did that again, she wouldn't be able to think lucidly much longer. A part of her that she had kept restrained, oh, so carefully, was yearning to break free. Could she explain to him everything that this action entailed for her people? For her?

"I'll need…I might-"

He nodded against her throat. "I know." And somehow, she was sure that he did.

Suddenly, his head came up again; eyes meeting hers with intensity that she hadn't known existed. "There is much I do not know, my Walker. But I know that I mean… this… as more than a meeting of sensations. I feel…I feel that I would have you, if I may. Have you as…" he kissed her throat absently, thinking, then said a soft word. He said it aloud, and he said it in her mind; mate and friend and lover and partner, all rolled together. His eyes locked on hers. "That is how I would have it. Would you have me?"

Life itself seemed to slow to a standstill. She could sink into those hopeful eyes, into the bright corona of his timelessness. She drew a breath. "I would."

His smile was small and dusky, and yet there was more in its shadows than all the stars in the sky. "Well enough, then."

His head bent again, and the Walker gasped as teeth found the point of one small breast through fabric, as the link was opened and made. His mind was wide open to her, and it was like nothing she had ever seen. It was like looking into the Untempered Schism again; so many things that he saw, all at once, endless events in time and place, all happening in the same moment for him. She saw herself in his eyes, the beauty and simple complexities of her, so many things that puzzled and entranced . But he saw in levels; she saw her own face, and she also saw the time traces wrapped around her, the millions of cells that were her body, and the whirling molecules making them up. Yet it was all the same picture to him, all superimposed together in his sights. _He sees Reality. All of it. Infinite possibility and minute detail. _It was so much more than Time, than the threads and patterns she knew so well. She had seen a shadow of this before, but this swirling of light and possibility was more than she had ever thought a single mind could hold. _How does he stand all that in his head? _It was so much. Too much. A part of her wanted to dive into that maelstrom. Another part drew away from something so enormous. She almost laughed.

_No wonder he's absent-minded._

A ripple of concern changed the patterns, and they simplified into his own sensation and emotion and ideas as he focused on this moment of time-space, letting his awareness of all others fall back. She could feel the blood rushing through Ramble's veins now. His breath seared her skin, and he shivered as she brushed a hand down his back. She could feel the zipping tingle that her cooler fingers evoked on his flesh. His fingers traced across the other breast and her breath hitched. "This is…easier if I take off-"

"I'll-"

"No." she said, intercepting the spark of his power, "I'd like it to exist later. Just let me-"

Slowly, carefully, she pulled off her shirt, then undid her bra, letting it fall. Ramble's eyes ran over the actions, both studious and enthralled.

"And now-" She reached over, found the edge of his coat, and helped him out of it. Her fingers found the hem of his tunic, and pulled it slowly up, revealing the pale skin beneath. He shrugged, and the tunic fell away into its component molecules. For a moment, he stared at her, his body shining in the darkness. His muscles were lean. His eyes roved up to hers. "And now…" He grinned slightly, irresistibly. He was going to…or if he didn't she was…

The next kiss was not patient, but heated, strong, each of them demanding and receiving. It deepened, and fingers traced across the back, tangled in dark hair, found purchase against muscle. Ice and fire touched. The Walker ran a hand down his spine, letting it rest just above the base. She pushed herself closer to him, finding the perfect place, deepening the kiss. He was growing hotter, and so was she. It felt as if all the blood in her body had raced to the surface of her skin, making it tingle with fire. Every point he touched burned. Every place she touched lit up in him. She could feel herself opening up, her body throbbing like a drum. He nibbled the ridge of her ear. "Patience, bheir me o."

His fingers moved slightly, finding all the right places. Her throat apparently wasn't going to work.

_I am always patient. Always calm. I hate patience._

She traced her fingers down his chest, just to the band of his leggings, and he drew in his breath.

_**I think may as well.**_

She took a breath. "Well, you insisted."

Slowly, slowly she undid the fixture of his belt, and slowly pulled it off. Never mind her skin, her bones seemed to be thrumming now. He reached down a hand, placing it just under the top of her jeans. Such _heat._ He wanted to be touched so much, if she moved her fingers just a bit, just a little to the left-

Ramble's breathing came in tight gasps. Every candle in the tent put itself out. She traced the line of his pectorals with her lips, finding and awakening the nipples with her teeth. Her own body responded to the sensations in his. His hands clasped her, and he found the places on her skin that ached to be caressed. They rolled back as one, side by side, arms tight around each other, legs intertwining. She could feel him beneath his leggings, and her hips angled towards his of their own volition. The hand on her back moved lower. His mind was so full of wonder, each touch a new experience, but also of the same ancient need as her own. He was noticing the feeling of denim against leather, chafing at it, while the rest of his body took in her touch with such joy.

_**These are annoying**_.

And then all she could feel, all he could feel, was skin against skin, hot and cool and beautiful. Distantly, she wondered if he'd rematerialize her jeans later. He brushed the thought away with amusement. Right now, it was glorious not pausing for their removal.

They twined together, sharing bodies, sharing sensations, fingers and legs and lips pulling nerve chords into a symphony of sensation. Thoughts sparked and danced through their heads, shared and combining into fireworks that lit their minds, exhilarating, beautiful.

They did not speak, for now no words were needed between them. She rolled, and he rolled with her, until he was over her, his eyes locked into hers, twined like two halves of a knot, two parts of a whole. Each felt the other, and where one ended and the other began was nearly impossible to discern. The key found the lock, and they fit perfectly together, rising, arching into each other, shaking through each other, riding full tilt towards perfection. There was a wave of ice and fire building, all sensation culminating, bodies and minds blending into a seamless and breathtaking whole, locked tight together, sharing and feeling and living.

And then the wave crested, in a blaze of white-gold brilliance and two shuddering cries of ecstasy.

_**This is LIFE!**_

_Yes. LIFE. Ours._

….

The strategy repeated itself in Jenny's head, playing out in different scenarios. All around, laughter and music rang. She'd wandered into the Fleet battalion area.

"Chieftain!" Mag Rui roared, "There ye are!"

Jenny smiled slightly, and entered the circle of firelight. Men and women welcomed her.

"Hello lass!"

"Our welcome, Chieftain!"

"Hey girl! Grab a seat!"

A cup of something was put into her hands as they welcomed her and found her a seat. Then somebody called out for a song. With a grin, a young Fian stepped up. He sang a hard, fast song that stated in the chorus that he was the kinsman of Death herself. Jenny clapped along, grinning fiercely.

The circle clapped. Then Kishe, a Valera fighter, clapped her on the back. "Your turn!"

Jenny grinned."Okay. You asked for it."

She taught them the words to 'I won't Back Down', 'Blasting Bastards Today' 'We're not Gonna Take It', 'Another one Bites the Dust' a song called 'The March of Cambreth' and 'Blasters, Balls and the Battering Ram' They taught her 'the Foggy Dew', 'Come Out you Black'n Tans,' 'The Rising of the Moon', "Paddy get a Plasma Gun' 'Flying through Fire' 'Set the Cannon on Kill' and a vicious Gaelic song insulting the men of Ulster.

Finn MacCool, a wiry man, laughed as she finished the last verse of 'This is How You Kick Them in the Canisters.' "Fine in battle and fine in song. I'd dearly love to have you in my Fian."

Jenny shook her head, brushing her silvery bangs out of her eyes. "Sorry, I'm already engaged."

"That you are." Mag Rui said, "And as such, you being our Chieftain and all, we thought to mark the occasion."

Jenny shook her head. "If you think you're going to get me smashed—"

"Na, na. Not mead. The lads were thinking. You're our chieftain, but you've got no arms of your own. So we…well, here." He pulled at a bundle that had been laying at his feet, and pushed the blanket open.

The plas-metal body armor was shining black and just her size, with the sheen of a good deflection field over it. Silver swirls accented it at the elbows and up the arms, down the calves, sometimes weaving into complex designs. The helmet was a fine silver circlet that she knew would create a deflective force field around her head and neck.

"Wow." Jenny ran her eyes up and down the armor, noting the sigil on the breastplate; a copper hawk with a white bolt of lightning striking from its talons."You guys…who put the symbol on?"

"I thought it appropriate." Starbuck, one of the Eternals, said. "A hawk on the wing, and a flash of brilliance. It is fitting for you."

Jenny nodded. "Yeah. Thanks!"

"And you don't think we'd send our Chieftain into battle with no arms, do you?" Finn said. He nodded to the Eternal. Almost shyly, he held out his hands. In them was a spear. It glowed, from the mahogany shaft to the copper-sheened blade inlaid with swirling gold and a single line of silver.

Reverently, Jenny took the spear. The tip crackled with white lightning. Holding the spear, she turned to her men. "This…guys…this absolutely _kicks ass_."

"Ash wood and star metal." said one young man. "It will be a good weapon."

"And will have a good blooding tomorrow." someone else said.

"And we will have a good night tonight." Finn declared, "For tomorrow we enter battle!"

As one, the warriors threw back their heads and bellowed out a cry. Spear held high, Jenny joined in the shout with all her might.

…

Outside, music and cheers could be heard. The Doctor and the Lady sat in comfortable silence, the candle between them flickering.

"So," he said, "We'll still have a couple repercussions."

The Lady nodded. "Echoes. Memories, and like as not refugees of my kind and those born half-eternal, half-mortal. Scattered through time."

"And stories." The Doctor agreed. "There are always stories. But that's to be expected."

The Lady nodded. "True." One long finger traced circles on the table top. "Doctor, has anyone said to you that you are lovely by candlelight?"

The Doctor quirked his lips in a smile. "My Lady, are you making a proposition?"

She smiled. "There are many tents shared by two tonight. We could take great joy in one another."

The Doctor smiled slightly, and shook his head. "The offer's a compliment, but I'm not what you're looking for. My mind would be pretty distracted, anyhow."

The Lady nodded. "I have seen that. Never fear, Storm-Heart. You have a flower in your soul. I will not try to dislodge it."

The Doctor let that pass without comment.

After a moment, the Lady looked into his eyes. "Another thing troubles you. The battle?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. The battle." he sighed. "Seems like there's always one more battle. Jenny worked me into the strategy by asking me to use my ship to look out for any synthetic environmental manipulation of the battlefield. Though if I'll be able to catch everything an Eternal would come up with I don't know."

"I will aid you in that." The Lady said quietly. She drew a deep breath."I have watched many wars, on many worlds. But I have no experience of battle. Not…personally."

The Doctor snorted. "You don't want to." He turned to look her in the eye, his face suddenly hard in the flickering light. "War is pain and hate and death. War is losing everyone, everything you have, even yourself. War is living with a fear so deep that it gnaws at your insides with every step you take. War makes you into a creature that you could never have imagined becoming, a creature that revels in death, and you hate yourself, and still go on with it, getting harder and crueler all the time until you can't remember a time when you weren't fighting."

Internally he noted that his tear ducts were beginning to react. He did his best to stop the process. But he couldn't get control of the break in his voice, nor how raw it sounded in his own ears as he spoke.

"And maybe after you've seen war, maybe then you'll wish you hadn't started it. You don't want to know war, Lady Rhiannon. But you will."

The Lady looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes widened. "You have done so much fighting. So much. You do not wish to fight."

"No." the Doctor murmured. He drew a shuddering breath, and wiped his face. "No. But I will."

…..

The embers glowed. Jenny had sent the fighters to bed hours ago, and now she sat alone, her armor at her feet and her spear by her side, wrapped in her warm leather coat and a decorated sheepskin someone had given her. Only the Eternals, sleepless, played drums that seemed to lull and comfort many of the fighters. Maybe they helped men forget tomorrow.

The drums formed a heartbeat in the night, almost matching Jenny's double rhythm. She stared into the coals, licked by flames. In the tent nearest the fire, small giggles and gasps intermingled with murmured words. The firelight danced, mesmerizing. Beyond it, the world was an unknown darkness. Wrapped in the warm sheep skin, she felt her eyelids droop.

Jenny fell asleep to the sound of drums and lovers moving together. A sound of readying, a sound of hope.


	11. Chapter 11

11

The Doctor drew a deep breath. Dawn lit the sky, illuminating the very tip of the ridge where he sat. Below him, the camp began to stir.

Sensing Jenny's presence, he glanced over his shoulder. He smiled, doing his best to infuse his voice with enthusiasm as she walked to stand by his side. "Wow. Look at you! Be surprised if they don't run off when they get a look at you." Dressed in a tight fitting black and silver suit of armor, she did look the warrior, with her hair braided intricately around the silver circlet on her head.

Jenny smiled up at him. "Thanks Dad. The men made these for me."

"Good job of it too. Is that spear—"

"Plasma weapon." Jenny affirmed. "Idea of some of the guys who didn't want to learn to use guns." Then she turned, looking over the plain, and drew a deep breath. "It's going to be a good day."

The Doctor nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. After a moment, he noticed Mary standing on Jenny's other side. "Hello. Didn't expect to see you here."

"Mary needs to see where the battlefield is so she can know what area to avoid." Jenny said. She pointed down the valley.

"See that stone? That's where it starts. Back here will be the medics, so if you're good with blood maybe you can help out."

"I'll do my best." The girl said.

Jenny turned to look up at her father. "And you'll be around the field too, right? Watching out for synthetic environmental manipulation or temporal disturbances?"

The Doctor nodded, smiling blandly. "Just like you told me, Soldier."

Jenny nodded sharply. "Good."

"And you'll be careful down there, right?" the Doctor said. "No crazy stunts or heroics? You're too young to need a regeneration."

"A soldier acts for the good of the unit, Dad." Jenny said, looking solemnly up at him. "I'll do what I've got to." Then she smiled a little. "But I'll try not to get killed. Besides, I like the way I look."

The Doctor nodded."So when does the show start?"

"The Lady will give us a call to assemble. An hour after that, we march."

Beside her, Mary laughed slightly. "To think; the Tuatha de Dannan going to battle. And me to watch it."

The Doctor glanced at her, a half-smile ghosting across his lined face. "Oh Mary. Little Mary O'Hara from Bally Cu." he turned, staring out over the plain. "You watch, Mary. Today you're going to see the kings and queens of the Universe go to war."

Soon, the Lady's summons came to their minds. The three of them headed down the hill.

"I promised I'd make an appearance in the front ranks before you lot start marching." the Doctor said. "Mary, you stay by me, and I'll drop you off behind the lines when they get going." They moved through the milling crowds, Jenny calling out orders and reminders at every turn.

Soon, the men were beginning to form up in their battalions, formed properly for parade. The Doctor noted a small smile on Jenny's face.

They were close to the front of the line now. The Doctor turned to his daughter. "Well, here we are." Stepping closer, he bent, and kissed Jenny's forehead. "Good luck, _lah taruelai._"

She smiled up at him. "You too, Dad. Stay safe." She seized him in a swift, tight hug, and then took off, calling out orders.

The Lady was waiting in the center of the line when the Doctor took his place, Mary beside him.

"Today," she said, "we go to battle!"

A roar rose from the army.

"Today we meet our enemy on the field of Moytura!" she called, and the army roared its response. The Lady gave a smile that was fierce and calm, resigned and sad all at once. She turned, and nodded to Mary. "Give us a song then, girl. Give us something for the battle."

Mary froze.

"They need something you believe in." the Doctor whispered, "Something that everyone here can believe in. They need belief to draw strength from."

"But I don't have anything."

"You've got everything you need. This is your home, and you know what everyone here can believe in."

Mary stared at him for a long moment. "Something all of us can believe in?"

The Doctor nodded.

Mary thought for a long moment. Then she drew a deep breath. The words rang in the cold air.

Óró! 'Sé do bheatha 'bhaile  
Óró! 'Sé do bheatha 'bhaile  
Óró! 'Sé do bheatha 'bhaile  
Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh !*

A Gaelic song, the words cutting into the predawn sky. The men who knew it cheered. Even those who didn't know Gaelic grinned and nodded. This was a fighting song. A powerful song. A song to pull them together.

The Lady touched the girl's shoulder. Then she closed her eyes, and the words were given to them all. A piper picked up the tune. Mary drew another breath. This time, nearly the entire army sang the first verse with her.

'Sé do bheatha a bhean ba léanmhar!  
B'é ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibhinn  
Do dhúthaigh bhreá i seilbh meirleach  
Is tú díolta leis na Galla

And, singing like one man, they began to march. Their voices rang through the valley. Fierce, angry. Ready.

…..

The enemy was waiting for them on the other side of the field, brooding like a stormcloud. Jenny narrowed her eyes, scanning them. Vikings, lots of them. She'd known about them. A bunch of Danes, with here and there English regiments tightly segregated from the rest of the group. She allowed herself a grim smile. That wasn't an army. That was just a bunch of men good at killing.

They started charging the minute they got a close. And the battalions went into action. Two battalions of fleet troops swept out on either side, screaming like blue blazes. With any luck, they'd flank the enemy, sweeping them into the waiting foot battalions. She nodded. It was working.

Then her part of the line clashed, and she became focused on the enemy in front of her. Swift kick. Broken neck. One down.

"Erin go Bragh! Let's kick some ass!" she shouted, and threw herself into the fray.

Everywhere she turned, there was another enemy. Danes. Vikings. Mercenaries from the 50th to the 90th centuries bristling with weapons. Jenny whirled through, her body working almost of its own accord. Swing, thrust, kick, headbutt, swivel, stab, energy burst. Her spear crackled and shone, obliterating enemies. Eternals in fantastic and shining armor brought swords too bright to be real down on armor made from cowhide. Thrust. Cut. Burn. Blast again. Kick, and again. A man came at her with an axe raised over his head. She blew a hole through his chest. Punch. Broken jaw. Again. Caved in windpipe. There was a whistle and an explosion. Somebody had thrown a grenade. Stupid in such a fight. You'd kill your own fighters.

But they didn't care. Every one of these men was fighting mostly for himself. Maybe for his tribe or unit. But not for his people. Blast. Cut. Rabbit punch, throat chop. She heard a scream. Finn had killed a man coming up on her from the side. She grave him a fierce grin of thanks, and plunged on.

Hover jets whizzed overhead, raining down ray-bombs on the enemy's back and their artillery, destroying the motley array of cannons that had been set up.

Kick. Stab. Stab. The air began to smell of singed flesh, and blood. Battle.

….

Battle. The fighting had gone on for four hours. The Doctor watched it grimly from the TARDIS monitors as he scanned the screens. Already he'd broken up a silliquisim meant to cause an earthquake. Cheating already.

It was beginning to look like this fight would be done in one day, not three. The Lady's forces—he had to remind himself not to call them Jenny's forces—were forcing their enemy up against a ridge, pressing in from all sides. He didn't see many of their casualties either. The Eternals were probably healing them.

He dislocated a small power nexus that would have created a violent tornado in the Lady's ranks. Surprisingly, this was turning out to be easier than he'd expected.

…..

Jenny watched a blood droplet wick away from her deflection screen.

"First wave, to the fore!" she called out with voice and mind. The second wave had been fighting a long time. They needed water and electrolytes. Fresh, the first wave came rushing forward. Six hours of battle, and three waves. The rotation was working perfectly.

The enemy got no such consideration from their command. She was guessing that they'd cut the force down by a third, and they would be flagging soon. Already some of the later period fighters not used to sustained fighting were starting to break. She was killing men that should have posed a challenge.

A man in a dark blue shirt, tan pants and black hat tried to shoot her. The bullet bounced off her suit's deflection. She sliced down.

They could do this. They were winning.

….

They really were winning. The Doctor ran around the console, deflecting and disrupting. He shut down some sort of energy surge that he didn't have time to identify, and knocked out another that would have dropped about half the field into the early Triassic. He flicked several buttons, knocking out some other power spike near the battle.

There were more now. The Eternals must be getting desperate.

Then there was a lull. The Doctor leaned against the console, taking slow, deep breaths. He looked over the regional map.

"Now that's much…" then his forehead creased. "What's that?" He tapped a few keys, and his eyes widened. "Energy sink. Gigantic bugger. But why? That's nowhere near…" then the Doctor's brown eyes went wide. "Lady Rhiannon!" he called out, "I need you! Right now!"

The Lady was there in front of him. Her red hair had been braided into hundreds of small plaits, and the red coat and leggings she wore were stained with a darker red. The sword in her hand shone like the moon. "You are afraid. Why?"

"It's Maeve! She's cheating, and not only on the battlefield. Three days to fight and three days for the nexus, those are the rules, right?"

"You know that."

"Yeah," the Doctor said, one hand in his hair, "but she's using the _same three days_. While we're winning one battle we'll lose the other. And it's not against the rules because it's still three days!"

The Lady's eyes went wide. "I should have seen this."

"But you were distracted with battle, right? Right, of course you were, and that's exactly what she wanted. This whole field's a decoy for her!" he turned sharply. "You need to send an Eternal to undo the thing."

The Lady shook her head. "It must be done by our men. We are agreed upon this point."

"Right, forgot that. Okay, am I allowed Eternal help finding the thing?"

"Not an elder's. But yes."

"Then give me Ramble. He's good at finding things, right?"

The Lady nodded. Then she was gone, and Ramble was standing where she had been, short sword in one hand.

"What do I need to find?"

"Maeve's started the nexus. That's what. Here…" he pushed the main monitor to the other man. Ramble shook his head. "This means nothing to me. I will speak with your ship, if I may."

"If she lets you, go ahead."

Ramble put a hand against the time rotor. The Doctor received a questioning sensation. "Go ahead, ol' thing." he murmured.

Ramble's eyes lost focus as information flooded his mind. "It is not here…she put it beyond a gate…ah" he winced. "She put it in the dark place."

"The eighteen-forties?" Ramble nodded, and winced again. "I….it is there, but…ah. There is nothing I can use in finding it. It is…darkness."

"Right." Said the Doctor grimly, "always easier seeing something if you're close to it. So let's get close." Running from switch to switch, he pushed the ship into the Vortex. "Hold on. Crossing universes gets bumpy."

The ship shivered and rattled around him, nearly throwing him from his feet. "Okay, here we go, and…why are you so pale?"

"I…it is…" Ramble leaned on his spear. "Darkness. That is all there is. No energy. No power."

"Tell me how to destroy this thing." The Doctor said.

"You must remove the focus. Disturb the energy balance. Disperse the power. Destroying the frame of it would be enough. Here—" he held out his short sword, crackling with power. "It will suffice."

"Thanks. Now get out of here."

Ramble nodded, and was gone.

The Doctor checked his coordinates, and was surprised to find that he was right back on Knock-na-Cu.

"No, I need the site of this energy sink. Somewhere where a lot of energy's gathering up." He said, typing at the keys, "Strange weather patterns, strange occurrences, the like."

Then his fingers stilled. The Doctor's eyes widened. Ramble couldn't absorb energy here. He found it upsetting. The local people said that strange and evil things found this hill. What did that all equal?

Bringing up his coordinates, he input a vertical space about a meter below his present location, with a suggestion that if the ship found a hollow spot, it should settle there.

A second later, the Doctor stepped out of the door, the sword in his hand. The inside of the hill was a burial cairn, and a big one. There was a shining, rippling oval set in the stone wall, throwing light on old bones and moldering grave goods. The Doctor stepped forward.

The air rippled. And something growled. Slowly, the Doctor looked behind him.

Blackness. The black of night without stars. It roiled itself up into the shape of a monstrous dog, black as a hole in space, towering over him. The Doctor stared up, his eyes wide.

"The Hound." he whispered.

…..

Jenny directed the aerial battalion at two cannons on the hill with a wave of her hand and a thought. They swooped in perfect formation, lined up. Jenny grinned.

Until a giant something grabbed a hover jet out of the air. Jenny gasped."What the?" It was a raven, bigger than a jet.

There was a crack as the ground on another part of the field split open. Jenny closed her eyes.

_What the hell is happening?_

A maelstrom of images came back. Then one clear voice.

_**Maeve's warriors are using the power that is in them.**_

Jenny cursed.

"Fine. If they're doing it, then you do the same! Kick their asses, by their rules."

There was a wave of fierce assent that nearly knocked her off her feet. And then the field went to hell. Eternals changed forms into monstrous wolves, lions, and stags, charging the enemy. Some became hawks, eagles and ravens. The ground heaved beneath their feet. Clouds began to gather. At the sight of the creatures, some of Mave's army broke and ran.

"Hah!" Jenny called, "Guess that backfired!"

In response, Maeve's Eternals became crows and nightmare creatures, all spines and teeth, ripping into ally and foe alike. Some were only shapes of blackness that fell upon men and swallowed them. Jenny blasted one hopelessly with her spear as it passed. To her shock, it vanished.

"Spearmen! Hit'em with a jolt!" she shouted out, projecting both the words and the thought. "They can do whatever they want, we won't lose our form. Keep at them!"

Then the battle was back on her. And it had just gotten more interesting.

…..

The thing's head turned downwards. There were no eyes, but the Doctor could feel its gaze like hot breath on his skin. No intelligence there. Just a will.

"I WILL HAVE YOUR NAME. GIVE ME YOUR NAME."

The Doctor stared up, and Ramble's words ran through his mind.

_They do our bidding. They are given a task, and they carry it out. They have all the power in us, but little of the wit._

That was its task, to get his true name. And it would never stop. He drew a deep breath.

"No." he said. Then he turned on his heel and ran. Behind him, the Hound lunged.

…

The Walker rushed to help a man whose leg was nearly severed. "Moq'l, over here! Now!"

The Eternal appeared beside her, and put both his hands on the leg. Within minutes the bone, nerve and tissue were regenerating, healing, stitching together. But fast healing was a painful process. The man screamed, and fainted. Before he hit the ground, his leg was whole again. Moq'l nodded his brown head, and was gone again.

The next man had a broken arm. She set it, and told him to wait for an Eternal.

She turned. And Ramble was in front of her, his eyes wild.

_**Your grandfather. He is in danger. We must go. We must go now.**_

_Take me._

_**For this I have not the strength. Your ship.**_

The Walker didn't question. She nodded. "I have to go. Someone take over triage."

A thin Eternal that seemed to be made from water appeared, and nodded what it had for a head. And they were in the Walker's ship.

….

The Doctor only got a few steps before the blackness caught and enveloped him. He couldn't move. Couldn't see. And so he did the only thing he could do. The Doctor closed his eyes and kept running, into his memories. The Hound followed.

"YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME."

He ran through memories of mazes and forests where creepers tangled and tripped and plants reached out to grasp. He ran through a stracatian puzzle garden that had no real exit, and still he could hear it behind him, its feet pounding, its overwhelming thoughts a cacophony.

"I WILL REND I WILL TEAR IF YOU DO NOT GIVE YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE IT TO ME."

He ran through planets covered in sparking gasses, and lit flames that made firestorms behind him. Still it came on.

"YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME."

He ran across moons covered in razor-sharp spires of rock, jumped into a river overlaid in a blanket of blue mist, through the inextricable gardens and a tangle of a nebula whose light blinded pilots. And still, the Hound was behind him, always close.

"I WANT YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE IT TO ME."

He ran through war zones. Kieser bombshells exploded, lasers burst in blue-green fits, screams rang out, smoke billowed. Air-raid sirens screamed in the night as the bombs fell. Ships foundered in water and in space. He crawled through mud, tripped over razor wire, ran through lightning storms of intergalactic laser launches.

"GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE IT TO ME."

He had to find a place where this thing would be lost and confused. What was the most chaotic memory set he possessed? He ran through insane carnivals that were whorls of color and sound, through an eighteenth century Mardi-Gras, through a Tyreel celebration of death. Still it came on.

….

There was a giant on the field, swinging a tree for a club. A million vines broke from the ground, holding it, choking it. It disappeared before it hit the ground. Jets warred with gigantic birds of prey. The blue woman stalked through, and men froze to death with her touch in the heat of battle. Stags battled boars. Jenny fought on. She brought her spear down on a great hound with fire for eyes. It vanished. She ran forward, disemboweling a creature that had been about to take Grianne from the back. The Sea Queen waved her saber in thanks, and plunged on.

One young Eternal rode a chariot, his deep gold hair shining like his spear. The enemy fell in front of him like grass in front of a flamethrower. The men cheered as he stabbed his gold spear into the blue woman, and she vanished.

And Jenny fought on.

….

Still it came on. He had to find something worse.

Well, what was the worst?

He'd have to do it.

Steeling himself, he ran into the War.

Planets burst into thousands of shards, suns burned into cinders. Dalek ships loomed over, blotting out the stars. Warships of a thousand races screamed across the sky, led by the multi-formed white ships of Gallifrey, their red and gold flag ships. Red like the sky. Red like fire. Fire. _Exterminate! _The very cosmos twisted and writhed. Fire. So many planets. So many people. _Exterminate!_ Dalek ships burned, crushed themselves in black holes, detonated. But there were always more coming. Always more. Timeships imploded, ripped apart. GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE IT TO ME." Laser cannons. Age rays. Starfire and supernovae and black holes and time displacements and t level pulsar beams burning ships and planets alike, everywhere, all around. He had to run. Fire reigned. And it was still there.

"GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME YOUR NAME GIVE IT TO ME."

He ran through the halls of the Prydon Academy, ran as fast as he had when he was a boy running from class. Through the city, out the Southern Gate. Out into the gardens, and beyond, into the forests where the leaves were turning, flashing in the amber light. He ran. He had no idea where to run, only knew that he could not stop. Never stop running. His feet were moving of their own volition, taking him down a wide dirt trail. Past the forest edge, past the field- and there was home, his parent's home. If he could only run inside and crawl onto his sleep mat and stay…but no, no, he had to run. Run, run, run. Past the water pump. Up the trail. Up, up, up, to the top of the mountain, to where the Hermit lived. Faster, faster. Up and up. There was the cave. Run.

Then the Doctor realized what he'd done. He'd been running to a place he remembered as a haven, safety. Now he was facing a rock wall. There was nowhere else to go.

….

The Walker's TARDIS appeared in the cairn beside her grandfather's. The Walker strode out. "Grandfather!"

The older man lay prone on the ground, his body twitching spasmodically. He gasped deep lungfuls of air, his chest heaving. The Walker looked up. "Ramble, help!"

Ramble took two steps, and nearly collapsed."The nexus… the sword…"

The Walker scrabbled for the blade, and held it up. Ramble let out a heartfelt groan, leaning against the doorframe for support. _**No energy. Need..new weapon. Battlefield.**_

"But what about Grandfather?" she cried out. Ramble shook his head slowly, his eyes half open. _**When we return. Destroy the nexus, he will be well. Must go. Now!**_

There was such urgency in the final word that the Walker was pulled to her feet. She stared at the twitching body of her grandfather. Then she broke and ran into her ship, dragging her weakened lover with her.

…

Even over the sound of warfare, Jenny knew the sound of a TARDIS. She glanced up. Ramble landed lightly beside her.

"Your grandfather needs you. Go. Now!"

"But what about—"

"Now! Your men will see to the battle from here. Go!"

And she was standing in the Walker's consol room. "What the hell?"

"The nexus is forming. Maeve was hoping to cheat. We need a fresh weapon that the energy hasn't been taken out of to destroy it." The Walker said quickly, hands flying over her consol.

"What do I do?"

""You have to remove the focus, Ramble said. Disturb the energy balance. Disperse the power. Apparently stabbing it will do."

"And Father?"

The Walker shook her head. "That has to wait. First, destroy the nexus. Quickly. Before your weapon loses its power."

Jenny nodded sharply. "Got it."

Then the ship began to judder and shake.

"I can't get a lock on the site!" The Walker called out.

"Lock onto Father's TARDIS!" Jenny called. The shaking knocked her off her feet. And then it was done.

"Go!" the Walker said. And Jenny ran for the door.

…..

There was nowhere else to go.

And the Hound was waiting. It was at the entrance of the cave. He didn't have to turn around to hear it.

"GIVE ME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME GIVE ME YOUR NAME." the incessant mantra beat inside his head. He couldn't think. There was nowhere else to run.

_It has all the power, but none of the intelligence of our people. It will only follow the order it was given._

Squaring his shoulders, the Doctor turned around.

"You want my name?" he said quietly. "Fine. I'll give you names."

Stepping forward, the Doctor stared up. "I was called Snail once, Theta Sigma, child of the house of Lungbarrow, scion of Prydon. Thete for short. I took up a name of my own, but I've had so many. I'm One of High Tribute, I'm Time Lord of the High House of Prydon, With Honors. I'm Doctoral Accolade of the Academy. I've been called Time's Champion and Zeus. I'm Space Man, Spock, and Dumbo too. I'm the Professor, Doc, Jones, I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis, John Smith and Doctor Galloway, Doctor Good, Doctor Caligri and Doctor McCoy too." The Hound was staring down, its head shaking from side to side. It was getting confused. It couldn't understand which name was which. The Doctor took two steps forward, his voice rising to a strident shout. "I'm Merlin, Storm-Heart, Quiquaequod, Muldwych, Spartacus too. There was a people that called me Ka Faraq Gatri, the Destroyer of Worlds." The thing was backing away, silent now. Overloaded with names. " I'm Karshtakavaar, the Oncoming Storm and the Bringer of Darkness. I'm the Three Fold Man, the Brother to the Coyote, The One Who Rides By Night and the Sandman, the Threat, Invader, the Dark Lord, the Alien. I'm the Healer, Healing Man, the Man of the Wheel, the Traveler, the Lonely God. And I'm Father, Kinsman, Grandfather, Beloved, Yanteri, Friend of the Triune, Essaltilon, Changing Man. I'm The Doctor. Now get out of my head!"

**And then it was gone. The mouth of the cave was clear.** **Summoning his will, he came back to himself. His dark eyes opened. There was a flash of light.**

…..

The room was awash in a light that oozed over the walls and the bones, rippled the air. It made Jenny's head hurt and her stomach reel. She couldn't look at the center of it. And it was across the room.

Jenny took a breath. Then she forced herself to look up. She stared at the forming nexus, a sucking maw of power, drinking energy. Her grip tightened on the spear shaft in her hand. She breathed. In. Out. Cleared her mind.

It was like being at the heart of a storm; in all the confusion in her body, all the white noise all around, one thing burned pure and still in her mind.

_This is wrong._

_This is wrong. And I'm going to make it right._

Her feet hit the hard packed earth as she took off, sprinting forward.

_**A soldier acts for the good of the unit.**_

Take away the focus.

The spear rose in her hand. She felt less like she was running than flying across the intervening space.

Disturb the energy balance. Disperse the power.

_you'll be careful down there, right?_ _No crazy stunts or heroics?_

_Sorry Dad._

_**A soldier acts for the good of the unit.**_

The nexus threw off waves of light that made the air ripple like water. Only heartbeats and breath, the light and what she needed to do. Only the sound of her own feet and the ash wood in her hand, the glint on the blade like flames and sunlight.

And Jenny rammed the spear home.

There was a burst of light brighter than a supernova. A flash that took up the whole world.

And then there was no world.

*_For those of you with any interest in Irish culture, the title of this song is 'Wind that Shakes the Barley' or 'Oro' Look it up on Youtube, especially the version done by Sinead O'Connor. One of the best battle songs ever._


	12. Chapter 12

12

There was no world. Only light. There was no Time. Only light.

And there were the Eternals. They were there, in the light. Of the light. They welcomed her, though there were no words. She was one of their champions. She saw herself as they saw her. A warrior. A hawk on the wing. A flash of lightning, pure and clean and brutal. A spear point shimmering with sunlight. And they spoke.

**As reward for this act, we name You. **

All those things wrapped together. That was who she was. That was her.

**Do You accept?**

They looked on her, and smiled. But there were no faces.

In that place that wasn't a place, Jenny accepted the gift.

**Our Thanks, Bright One. Our gratitude. Go well.**

And the light was gone.

…

The light faded slowly. And Jenny stood there. The Doctor croaked out her name. She stared out for a long moment. Then she seemed to snap out of some reverie. "Father. You okay?"

"I've been better." He said, getting to his feet. He studied the far wall. A dark burn mark, surrounded by a few scratches in the stones, was all that remained. "Nice work."

She grinned. "Thanks. It's what I'm good at, wrecking stuff."

The Doctor nodded. Then he was enveloped in a tight hug.

"You're all right!" the Walker cried, "Oh thank the stars! Is your head all right? No contusions? No subdermal bleeding? I'm so sorry, If I'd had a choice I never would have left you."

"Walker! I'm fine! Honestly, just fine. Stop mothering!" the Doctor said, fending his granddaughter off as she tried to check him over. "Besides, I think we need to be on the battle ground. Let's go!"

With that, he dashed into his ship, his daughter hard on his heels.

By the time they reached the field, the Lady's forces were just mopping up.

"When the nexus was destroyed," Ramble said, "Maeve knew her defeat. She sent her army back from whence it came."

"Just like that?" Jenny said. Ramble nodded."Indeed."

"Then you know what I think?" Jenny said. Ramble looked at her inquiringly. She grinned. "If you guys have never fought in a battle, you've never had a victory ceremony either."

That day and that night, drink and gold flowed. Cows and deer were roasted. Men and immortals danced and toasted survival and victory.

Sometime deep in the night, Jenny ended up in a waltz with William. "Glad it's over?"

"That and more!" he said enthusiastically. "I asked for three new suits an' enough money to get me to America and see me in good stead. And I was given it! Everyone who's asked has been given a grand last gift."

"Great!" Jenny called over the music, "Good luck when you get home!"

Then she spun away to a fast reel with fiddles and bodhrans. They had won. It was as intoxicating as the whiskey. Everyone had a story to tell. Even the Eternals seemed excited.

The morning seemed to come too early for the revelers, and the party went on. But soon men began to pack their tents and find Eternal friends who would ferry them home. The great war was over. Real life was waiting. Men and women returned, laden with fine gifts, to where they belonged.

There was a last meeting of the leaders. A chance to drink and boast and congratulate, to heap accolades on 'our bright girl' and to slap the Doctor on the back, which he didn't particularly appreciate. The Walker was thanked over and over for ailments she'd healed. She nodded, and Ramble, his arm around her shoulder, smiled.

A little ripple of bows and silence ran through the group. Ramble looked up, and bowed. "My Lady."

The Lady smiled warmly at the gathering. "I thank you. Each of you. Your valor, your strength, your skill."

"And our sacrifice." Finn said. He raised his glass. "To th' dead."

There was a murmur of assent, and drinks were poured on the earth.

The Lady shook her head, smiling."There shall be no sacrifice."

She looked into the puzzled faces."This is our world, and it follows our will. We say no man has died here. No man has been harmed. This is what we all say. We are the Kin of Eternity. And what we say—what we _all _say—is what exists. With our gratitude."

She smiled, and inclined her head. "And if I am right, there is yet one observance to be made." She said, smiling softly. "Children?"

Ramble smiled, and looked down at the Walker. Then they both looked up, and nodded.

…

They stood on top of the tor, their friends gathered around them. Her grandfather had said they might as well. A few of the men had said it was only proper. So here they were, standing in the circle of the stones, with the two of them in the center.

The Walker smiled a little. It was so different from the last time she'd gotten married. Then there had been white dresses and a chapel that smelled of incense, all sorts of frills and pomp. Now there was only her in a blue dress, the sound of the wind, her family and friends. The sun. And his eyes.

Ramble smiled down at her, his eyes golden as the sunlight coming over the hill. _**Do you want to use the words you did then?**_

She shook her head. _No, not those words._

_**Then what, bheir mie o?**_

Words. Oddly enough nobody had mentioned what ceremony they'd use. She didn't have much liking for the one in the Bible that Sean had offered. The Gallifreyan ceremony was too cold and legal for her tastes. She looked up at Ramble. _Are there words for this among your kin?_

Ramble shrugged. _**No. Never needed them.**_

At a loss, she turned outwards. "Are there any words that ought to be spoken?"

Silence and shrugs. Then Brian Boru stepped forward. "This is what my kin always say. Might be right for you an' all."

Bending down, he whispered the words into her ear. The Walker smiled, as did her groom. "Well enough." Ramble said. He held out his hands, and in them lay two rings; two claddaghs, one silver, one gold. The hearts were red amber, burning like flames.

Stepping forward, Ramble took her hand in his, slipped on the silver ring. He brought his eyes to hers.

"With these hands I give you my heart, and I crown it with my love forevermore. I pledge my friendship, my loyalty, my love. For all the days of my life." 

The Walker took the ring from his palm, slipped the gold onto his long finger. She looked up into his eyes, and she spoke. "With these hands I give you my hearts, and I crown them with my love, forevermore. I pledge my friendship, loyalty, and love. For all of the days of all my lives."

The Lady smiled proudly. "And let love and loyalty reign. You are bound."

There was a great whoop of cheering from the assembled circle. The Walker almost blushed when Jenny cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled out. "Kiss already!"

Glancing in her direction, Ramble quirked a grin."I've been given an order by the Chieftain. I shall have to follow it, then." Smiling, he wrapped his arms around her, and put his lips on hers. 

…..

"Well," said the Doctor, dusting off his hands, "that's seen the honeymooners off. And you doubt my intuition. Didn't I say they'd get hitched?" he smiled, then turned his grin on the two humans. "Now, you two wanted to catch a boat. You sure?"

Mary nodded. "Much as I love Erin, a man can't live here now. Perhaps in a few years I'll be back."

"Right." The Doctor said, nodding. "So, stop by town to get your things, then TARDIS express to the gangplank. Sound good?"

…..

The bell clanged overhead. Mary started.

"First call! All aboard!"

"Sounds like you'd better get moving." The Doctor said, smiling down. "Got your ticket? Bags? Hat?"

"Oh, yes, got it all I think." She lifted up her trunk, putting on her hat. Then Maggie turned suddenly to face the Doctor, looking up. "Doctor, I just wan' to ask-"

"Ah-ah." The Doctor held up a hand, "You know I said I wouldn't tell you anything about the future, and that's…"

"No, no," she said quietly, "I don' want to know whether I'll make piles of gold over in the Americas or marry well. Or even if I'll be happy. I just wan' to know…" She looked around the dock for a long moment, then back up at him. "I just wan' to know…will they remember this? In years to come? Will they remember all this, what happened here? Not with the hill folk an' all. With the starving times, I mean. Will it change anything, what's happening?"

The Doctor looked down into her pleading face, his eyes suddenly ancient. "Oh Mary. No, they won't forget. This goes down in the history books for centuries, becomes rather a model and the first lessons in humanitarian aid really. And more than that, oh, so much more than that is what they write about all the people who _leave_ Ireland. You people, you amazing, hopeful, dreaming fighting people, you go everywhere! Australia, England, Europe, Canada, America. And you change the world. You carry your history and your stories out there and you fight, you build huge buildings, run railroads across the country, actually run the country, change the face of nations. Oh, I could list off the top of my head at least fifty…no, make it fifty-five Irish immigrants and your descendants who change history in the next century and a half alone. And then there's your kids, and your grandkids, and _their_ grandkids. They keep on going, down across the years and out across the galaxies. And there's always a couple of 'em, somewhere out there, who look back and say 'yep, those were my ancestors in the Potato Famine, a long time ago.' You'll never be forgotten."

Mary smiled up at him, her eyes shining. "Thank you, Doctor. May the Lord and his Mother bless you."

She stood on tiptoe, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Overhead, the whistle screeched. Mary jumped. "Oh, I'd best be off b'fore I miss my boat!" Grabbing up her bags, she rushed off down the dock. With one foot on the gangplank, she stopped and waved. The Doctor waved back until she disappeared.

There was a loud sigh behind him. The Doctor turned, and his smile widened into a grin. "William! You're headed off on the same boat, I see."

William started, looking at the Doctor as if he'd just noticed him. "Oh-oh, yessir."

"And very good luck to you!"

"Well, I can but hope…" the young man sighed again. "She's quite th' girl, isn't she just, Doctor?"

"Mary? Oh, yes, one of the best."

William smiled, lifting his trunk. "Well, one day that girl's going to be Mary Ford. I'll be seeing you, sir."

He walked away, leaving the Doctor staring after him, his mouth hanging open. Jenny came up beside him, glancing inquiringly after him. "Father, what…"

"Remember I said that even the littlest people play parts in Time?" the Doctor said distantly.  
"Yeah." Jenny replied, pulling at the collar of her dress.

"Well, there goes a man who's an illustration of the point. William's going to marry Mary O'Hara. And they're going to have six kids. And one day, one of the descendants of those kids is going to name the first human warp-speed vehicle the _William and Mary_. Named it after his ancestors who took a ship into the unknown." he shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. "Can't believe it. Just can't believe it."

Then he smiled down at his daughter. "C'mon. Let's be going."


End file.
